


Mistakes in Time Traveling

by Multifandomfuckfest



Category: Doctor Who
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-04-14 10:42:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 51,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14134413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Multifandomfuckfest/pseuds/Multifandomfuckfest
Summary: A little timey wimey mix up where the Doctor and Donna head to the mansion and after being touched by an angel end up in two separate times. Donna is lucky enough to find herself in another time stream very close to the Doctor but as with Doctor Who everything turns to bollocks. Will the Doctor be able to save her? Will she find her Doctor again? How will they cope once reunited in the right time frame?





	1. Chapter 1

The wheezing of the TARDIS signaled they had landed, “think fun,” she reminded him taking the Doctor’s arm. 

His eyes met hers, “I am always fun Donna Noble,” he dared pushing the door open.

Rain and wind met them, “Doctor,” she sighed. He shrugged his coat off wrapping it around Donna, “dark abandoned house. Sounds fun to me,” he grinned.

Rolling her eyes Donna nodded as they made their way to the gate. The Doctor sonicked it open following after her. “Does anyone live here,” she whispered seeing how overgrown everything looked.

“Not sure,” he dismissed as they closed in on the house. Donna felt like something didn’t feel right but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

Something in the back of the Doctor’s mind made him think this was eerily familiar. Now, if he could just place it. He pushed the front door open using the Sonic to illuminate their path, “what if we are caught,” she worried.

“By who,” the Doctor admonished.

“Whatever alien is awaiting us,” she sassed falling behind him.

He stood up straighter, “absolutely no one here except the two of us,” the Doctor shouted checking his Sonic readings. He paused looking around, the house was falling apart, dust covered every surface, “and the dust bunnies,” he added.

“You really know how to have fun,” she scoffed shoving her hands in his coat pockets. She felt so many things, “are your pockets bigger on the inside too,” she questioned.

The Doctor quickly turned, “now is not the time,” he noted continuing forward. 

“Now is not the time,” she mocked.

He faced her again, “Donna, I know this isn’t what I promised.”

“It never is,” Donna sighed. She knew it wasn’t his fault but she was just so tired of the running today. She wanted one night of fun like he promised. “I’m sorry,” she said shaking her head.

She could see his shoulders sink, “let’s figure out why the TARDIS brought us here and we can have a word with her when we return. I’ll let you hold the mallet,” he promised.

Laughing Donna threw her head back, “that’s probably why she landed us here in the first place,” she giggled.

Coming into a set of French doors the Doctor froze, “I need my coat now,” he demanded.

“What is it,” she said noticing his change in demeanor as she shrugged it off. 

He was quite as he reached his hand inside his inner pocket searching for something. The Doctor continued to fish around before putting the jacket on, “never the same fit when it’s not on,” he explained.

“Doctor,” Donna pushed as he reached his hand back in his pocket searching once again. 

“Ah,” he cheered quietly pulling out a green plastic folder. He opened it all the papers inside of it. Donna leaned closer trying to see what was going on, the rain was dark outside. “I seem to remember reading something about this. A friend from the future gave this to me. Said I would need it one day,” he explained starting to flip through it. 

She could see various scripts and notes in what appeared to be a female’s writing. His eyes widened seeing two words. Two words that meant they were in for a ride, “what is it Doctor?”

He closed the green folder abruptly, “Donna I want you to go back to the TARDIS immediately. Run, but don’t close your eyes, don’t blink,” he instructed searching another pocket for a marker, paint, anything to do what he had to do to fulfill the future.

“What,” she demanded.

“Listen as I say,” he shot, “I have something I need to do,” he said finding a bottle of spray paint.

She brought her hand up and slapped him, “oi since when do I do as you say,” she mocked as he rubbed his shoulder.

“Weeping Angels,” he whispered, “they play dirty. Steal your entire life and feed off the future you could have had,” he explained. “Go, now,” he pushed. He had to get upstairs, “Donna go. If I don’t come back the TARDIS will take you home safe. I’ll come find you,” he promised.

The fear in her eyes worried her, “if you don’t come back,” she echoed.

“This story has already happened. It’s a fixed point,” he said holding up the green folder, “it’s all in here. Already done.”

She couldn’t believe it. Fixed point her ass. “Doctor,” she tried.

He shook his head, “go now, please Donna do this one thing,” he pled moving away from her and up the stairs. 

She started toward the front door, “don’t blink,” she scoffed, “what kind of advice even is that?” 

The Doctor rushed upstairs reading what he needed to write on the wall. Beware the weeping angel oh, and duck! Really duck! Sally Sparrow duck, now. Love from the Doctor (1963). “No,” he realized, “Donna.” He closed the book rushing downstairs. 

She pushed the front door open looking around. “Okay,” she sighed to herself, “no blinking. You got this Donna.” She peered from left to right. What was she even looking for? What was she even trying not to blink at? She stepped from the house going towards the TARDIS as she turned her back to the TARDIS watching that nothing snuck up on her.

It was hard to see anything in the dark. Donna could see the light of the Sonic upstairs in a room and then it was gone. Where even were they? Her eyes flickered back to the driveway trying to spy anything dangerous. She felt the wind blowing against her and the rain coming down on her. She glanced back upstairs not seeing the Doctor or anything in the ominous window. 

His eyes widened, “Donna,” the Doctor shouted pointing behind her. She turned seeing a statue reaching for her, frozen. 

Donna stepped back, “what the hell she gasped.”

“Don’t turn around. Keep your eyes on it,” he demanded. “Can you move around it and get to the TARDIS,” he asked his voice getting closer.

“I think so,” she agreed starting to move along side it not turning her face away and continuing to watch the statue.

“Donna,” she heard him scream and she looked up. He was nowhere in the driveway. All that stood there was another weeping angel. She felt a hand on her shoulder.

The air fizzled around her. Donna felt herself falling. She tried to reach for something, anything. Until everything stopped. Her breath left her body hitting the ground. She tried to open her eyes but everything was spinning. It was too much and the darkness was warmer.


	2. Chapter 2

Mr. Smith was excited to start his new job. Excited and nervous. He was moving away from everything he had known with his servant. They had been traveling for days from Nottingham to Farringham School. John could see that Martha was tired, “just a little ways longer,” he offered.

“Yes, Mr. Smith,” she said through gritted teeth. Martha looked around as she walked slightly behind him. Although she knew she was his equal, Mr. Smith certainly did not. She tried to look anywhere but at him, tried to focus on anything but what her life would be like the next three months. She noticed him pause only just in time to not run into him, “Mr. Smith,” she questioned noticing the look on his face. It was the most Doctor like look he had since he became Human.

“Martha, do you see that,” he questioned looking into the field. Smith picked up his pace carrying his trunk hurring over to a blob of cream colored fabric, “she’s in a nightgown,” John gasped bending down. He dropped his trunk reaching for her neck, “hello,” he questioned checking for a pulse. 

The woman moaned twisting her head, “Mr. Smith,” Martha called noticing the large gash and dripping blood. She hurried toward hit, “laceration is deep, doesn’t seem to have fractured the skull,” she noted examining the area. “Hurry, give me a piece of cloth,” she demanded.

John threw open his trunk reaching for a shirt and crumpled it up handing it to Martha. She placed it to the wound, “we have to get her to Farringham. We must only be twenty minutes walk,” he noted.

Checking her over Martha nodded, “it appears no other wounds are present. Must have hit this rock,” she noted of the blood soaked Earth. Martha ripped a piece of her apron off using it to wrap the shirt of John’s to the woman’s head.

“Carry my bags,” John instructed. He moved closer to the woman, gathering her up in his arms and ensuring that her head was leaned against his shoulder. 

“Yes sir,” Martha hissed clearly not happy about her newest prospect.

His speed quickened as he marched with haste, almost breaking into a run. The woman in his arms he found so beautiful. He wondered what happened to bring her here, severely wounded in her nightgown. “You poor thing,” he whispered. 

Shortly he could see the school. He was glad because his arms should have already have given out. John had read stories about fathers who had pulled wagons off their children in moments of crisis. He figured this was one of those moments. “Sir, what is this,” a man called seeing John and Martha hurring onto the property.

“We found this woman in the field. I’m John Smith. I’m starting Monday. This woman needs medical attention. Do you have a nurse,” he hoped not wanting to think about what would happen if they did not.

The man turned, “this way,” he barked marching up stairs and around a corner, “matron,” he called.

A blonde woman in a white apron and blue dress came out of a door, “has one of the boys broken a leg again,” she sighed. Seeing the scene before her she pushed her door open, “first bed on the right,” she noted gathering her bag and moving to the woman’s side. “Boil water,” she demanded starting to undo the ripped cloth and remove it from the woman’s head.

“Will she be okay,” John worried.

The nurse smiled, “let me worry about her and we can talk about your wife later,” she calmed him prodding at the skin where it seperated.

“She isn’t his wife. We just found her,” Martha corrected. “You’ll need to irrigate the wound and possibly pack it to prevent infection.

Joan thought it was odd for a woman to be found in a field but even more odd for a colored servant to instruct her how to treat a patient, “I dare say I have more training than you,” she replied turning back to the patient. As soon as the water was done she used it to clean the bloodied wound. The gash did appeared to be deep but not too deep, “should be an easy fix with a few stitches,” she assured them. She rinsed the wound and gathered her needle and thread. 

When the nurse was finished she dressed the wound before setting her supplies down. “Will she be alright,” John inquired.

“Yes,” promised Joan. Taking him in her mouth dropped open, “Mr,” she trailed off.

“Smith,” he introduced himself extending a hand to shake.

Taking it she smiled, “I will call one of the boys to take you to your room Mr. Smith. You should clean up,” she instructed staring at his shoulder where the woman’s head had been.

Looking down John noticed a bloodied patch. “Yes, rightly so,” he agreed. “Will you let me know how she is,” he hoped.

Joan nodded, “yes, Mr. Smith, “let us get you and your servant to quarters,” she said leading them out of the room.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Waking abruptly she bolted upright from the bed she was laying on. The change in position caused her head to spin. She looked around the unfamiliar room. Something wasn’t right but she could not wrap her mind around what. She gripped the bed trying to move, as she heard shuffling around her. “Lay back down, you're okay,” a gentle voice promised. 

She felt arms on her shoulders and leaned back into them and onto the pillow. Forcing her eyes open she was face to face with a lovely blonde woman in a light blue dress with a white apron. “Where am I,” she questioned.

“Farringham school. You were found in a field not far from here,” the woman explained watching her. “Are you feeling dizzy,” she questioned.

She nodded, “yeah and parched,” she admitted.

The woman smiled going over and filled a glass from a water picture, “my name is Joan and you are,” she asked walking back over and handing her the glass.

She thought for a moment. What was her name? She couldn’t seem to remember. Why was she in a field? She did not even remember being in a field. “I’m not sure,” she shakily said taking the water and sipping it.

“It looked like you had a nasty fall on your head. Not remembering might be due to that. Just in case we should call the police, have them come check,” Joan noted.

The refreshing coolness of the water satisfied her throat, “how did I get here,” she inquired.

“Our newest teacher Mr. Smith found you on his way here,” she revealed. “Lucky he did too, another hour and you would have lost too much blood,” she explained. Joan watched her as if studying an experiment, “do you know why you are in a nightgown,” she questioned. 

Looking down at her body, she noticed a cream outfit. She didn’t think it seemed unusual but compared to what Joan was wearing it was rather revealing, “no,” she swallowed.

Lowering herself on the bed Joan placed an arm on the covers, “it will be okay,” she promised.


	3. Chapter 3

She had tired at talking with the police, and the headmaster. The only piece of solace was Joan’s friendly face through it all. She had suggested that while she worked on getting better she could stay in her cottage with her. The headmaster clearly thought ill against it but for some reason he didn’t seem to have a chance against Joan. She had rested for three days before she dared to venture outside in one of Joan’s borrowed dresses. Joan had assured her it was no problem but she felt odd needing so much and having nothing to offer, not even a name. It was Joan’s idea to call her Jane. The police had labeled her Jane Doe since she had no identification when found. They had sent someone to search the area but they had found nothing. 

Jane took a deep breath as she picked some flowers from Joan’s garden. She had been talking with Joan last night about wanting to do something nice for Mr. Smith, wanting to thank him for finding her and ensuring that she received the needed medical attention. She wasn’t sure if she knew how to cook and Joan had seen her staring at the flowers, offering for some of them to be clipped in anticipation of spring.

Once she had what appeared to look like an okay bouquet she tied them together with a ribbon. She thought they looked lovely. She hoped he would too. Or at the very least not think her stupid for them. Walking down the dirt road and back onto the school property, Jane hurried through the gate and into the building. She remembered that Joan’s office was second floor on the left through the main hall. Joan had explained that if she took a right before the main staircase and went up the stairs at the end there, the teacher’s rooms were located with names imprinted on them. Jane had written a letter to leave with the flowers, knowing that Mr. Smith would likely be in class.

Coming up to the fifth door on the left Jane noticed Mr. Smith written in gold on it. Smiling she lifted her hands and knocked. “Come in,” called a male voice.

Her hand reached out and turned the doorknob. Walking over to his desk was a tall man. His white buttoned shirt was rolled up to his elbows, his suspenders were hanging from his trousers as he wiped his wet face with a towel, “oh,” Jane gasped seeing him in like this.

His eyes caught her widening, “I’m, I’m, I’m sorry,” he stammered. “I thought you were tea,” he confessed hurriedly pulling his suspenders up and reaching for his jacket shrugging it on.

“Not tea,” Jane smiled. 

Mr. Smith shoved the papers covering his desk into a folder, “I’m really sorry,” he apologized again coming over to her, “is there something I may help you with miss,” he stopped, “I’m sorry I do not know your name,” he confessed.

Jane sucked a breath in, “either do I,” she confessed. His eyes met hers confused, “I’m sorry. The officers are calling me Jane Doe,” she explained. “That is actually why I am here. I wanted to thank you Mr. Smith for helping me to safety,” she thanked him. 

“Jane,” he said her name familiarizing his mouth with it, “I’m not sure it fits you,” he shrugged. He stepped closer extending a hand out to her, “John Smith,” he introduced himself.

She took his hand shaking it, “John Smith and Jane Doe. We couldn’t be more ordinary if we tried,” she giggled gripping the flowers in her hand. “Oh, these are for you,” she realized handing him the bouquet. “I wasn’t sure how to thank you. I do not have much to offer to return the favor,” she admitted. 

His fingers ghosted across hers as he took the flowers. Lifting them to his nose he inhaled, “they are lovely,” he paused, “ahh choo,” he sneezed, “very lovely,” he agreed walking over and setting them on his table. “Why don’t you have a seat,” he suggested. 

Swallowing Jane sat on one of his leather couches, “thank you,” she said of his offer.

“You have had no return of memories then,” he questioned.

Jane shook her head, “unfortunately not. Joan has been kind enough to house me and offered me her clothes to wear. The headmaster is allowing me to stay and work in the library. I will be starting early next week,” she explained.

“Books. Everyone loves a good book. I've had the joy to look around the library. It could certainly use the kind touch of a woman to sort through it,” he agreed.

She nodded. “Mr. Smith, I was wondering if I might be able to ask you what happened when you found me. I'm hoping it might be able to bring about something,” she pushed biting her lip.

“Oh, yes, well,” he began. “Martha, my servant and I were making our way from Nottingham. We had been traveling for days. I had become accustomed to searching the landscape. That is what I was doing when I found your form. I saw your ginger curls and cream fabric and thought it odd,” he explained.

She nodded hoping he would continue. When he didn't Jane smoothed out her skirt, “when you found me was there anything you noticed?”

His face flushed, “your uncovered form was respected with the utmost dignity,” he promised.

“I'm sorry, I did not mean to imply,” Jane backtracked. “I only mean was there anything unusual,” she tried again.

Mr. Smith thought for a moment, “your skin was slightly damp and cold. It really was Martha, my servant who noticed you were bleeding and gathered my shirt to stop it,” he confessed.

“Oh,” she sighed losing hope anything would spark her memory. 

“I am sorry I could not be more help,” he apologized. 

There was a knock at the door, “come in,” he greeted. A black woman entered the room costumed in a black dress and white apron, “tea sir,” she explained stopping briefly when she saw he was with a woman.

“Is this Martha,” inquired Jane.

“Yes,” he answered. “Actually, would you like to stay,” he queried. “Martha could you fetch another cup,” he began.

Jane stood, “I really should be going. Thanks you Mr. Smith for helping me to safety,” she said again as he stood for her. Jane left the door as Martha did. “Martha,” she called. 

The servant plastered on a smile turning to her, “yes ma'am.”

“I wanted to thank you for your quick thinking that saved me. Mr. Smith told me how you stopped my bleeding.”

Martha's fake smile turned real, “no problem ma'am,” she assured her.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jane had to hurry up this morning to get out of the house on time for church. She wasn't sure why but she felt like she typically wasn't the type who ventured out on Sunday. But it was important to Joan and she owed Joan so much in return for the Christian charity she had offered to her.   
Sitting next to Joan now she wondered if there was a way out of church that wouldn't offend Joan. The vicar was horribly boring. It took everything in her not to yawn or fall asleep. Soon to keep herself awake instead of succumbing to the monotonous tone of the vicar she turned her attention to those listening intently. Jane noticed her attention drift to Mr. Smith. He face would crinkle up as if he was truly entertained by whatever the vicar was saying. It was almost as if he was listening to an entirely different sermon all together.

At one point when Mr. Smith moved to cough his eyes met hers briefly causing her attention to divert and cheeks to warm. He had caught her staring at him outright. After the sermon and some more singing Joan stood to begin their walk back to the cottage. Before they could make their way from the pew Mr. Smith was at the end, “Matron, Ms. Doe,” he greeted. Seeing Jane's face crinkle in disgust at his use he corrected himself, “Ms. Jane,” he tried again although improper. 

“Good morning Mr. Smith,” greeted Joan as Jane smiled giving him a nod.

“Those flowers have been a bright source of my mornings,” he began.

Jane swallowed, “I'm glad you found them of use,” she acknowledged wondering if he was just trying to be kind.

“Are you two headed back to the school,” he questioned.

They both nodded, “yes,” Joan and Jane answered in unison.

“May I accompany you back,” Mr. Smith questioned gazing into Jane's eyes.

Blushing she nodded, “you may,” she agrees feeling bad for Joan because she knew she was more forward than she. 

John stepped aside allowing for them to lead the way as he stood between Joan and Jane walking leisurely toward the school. “How are you feeling? Have you had any memories return,” he inquired. 

“No, I fear they will never come,” she sighed.

He nodded watching her features carefully, “possibly you are better for not remembering,” suggested John. 

Her eyes met his, “what do you mean,” she dared.

“You were in that field alone. No one appears to be looking for you,” he stated the facts.

Jane felt anger quell within her, “you know nothing about me Mr. Smith. I assure you someone is looking for me this instant,” she huffed.

“I'm sorry, I did not mean to offend,” he stammered. “I only meant you have a chance at a new life,” he explained.

She eyed him carefully unsure where he was going with it, “I do not feel I lived some horrid life. I am sure I was happy and I have people who miss me as I miss them,” she noted.

“You miss your life,” John asked.

Her eyes trailed on the path before them, “I believe I do. I think so,” she hoped.

They paused coming up to the wood gate that marked Joan’s home, “good day Mr. Smith,” she began nodding to him.

He nodded in return, “Ms. Jane I do truly hope your memories come back,” he assured her. 

“Thank you Mr. Smith, I do as well,” she agreed before turning and leaving him as she walked inside. 

Joan was standing on the inside of the door, “he has been asking about you, you know,” she began.

“I am sure he was concerned about the woman he saved being a mark of measure for him,” dismissed Jane.

Moving to the kitchen Joan turned on the kettle, “this is the first time I have seen Mr. Smith at church and both before and after his eyes were only on you,” she explained.

“Rubbish,” she sighed pulling a plate out and putting biscuits on it.

Joan pulled two cups and saucers out and stopped, “I will have you know he has stopped by twice this week asking after you. He was wondering when you were going to start at the library,” she told her.

Jane tried to hide the smile on her face as she set the biscuits on the table sinking into a chair, “you are having me on,” she admonished thinking about the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled.


	4. Chapter 4

She had only been at work an hours and Jane already found herself covered in dust. It was very clear no one had tended to these books in a long time. Even the maids had tried to stay away. Everything was in disarray. Jane searched through the main desk trying to find a master list of everything that was contained. There were piles of books around the desk that someone had returned and never put back. 

Pulling a set of curtains open Jane climbed up pushing the window open and allowing the spring breeze in. Flowers were beginning to bloom and she hoped the air would help with the mildew smell in this room. Walking over to the first pile of books Jane bent over gathering them to begin placing them away. She walked over to the first section of books, “oi,” she gasped noticing that this library was not organized via the dewey decimal system. She shoved the books down and began emptying the shelf, “I will make sense of this mess if it kills me,” she huffed stacking the books in a corner, sorting them between fiction and nonfiction. 

After doing this Jane searched the desk for scissors, paper, pen and tape. She knew she had seen a stack of rolls earlier. Possibly the previous caretaker had hopes to submit to Mr. Dewey’s system. Sitting down by the first stack of books she laid out her supplies before her. Taking the first book tenderly Jane read the title, “The New England Primer,” she said aloud as she opened the front cover looking for the cover page. Seeing the required information she wrote out the proper number before cutting it and then using tape to attach the number she had created to the spine. “Meriwether Lewis, History of the Expedition Under the Command of the Captains Lewis and Clark,” she read aloud continuing to note the proper numbers and label each one.

She felt immense pride notating each one with it’s proper number, even if nothing looked organized. Jane knew this was the first step but she was making fast progress as if she was born for this. Maybe she was. “Ahem,” a voice called behind her.

Standing Jane turned to see a dark brown suit, “Mr. Smith,” she greeted wiping her hands on her dress to free them of dust. “What may I help you with,” she questioned.

He stepped closer into the library, “I believe I left a stack of books here to take at a later time,” he informed her. 

Looking amongst the stacks Jane shrugged, “do you know which one. There seems to be many.”

Mr. Smith peered over the ones near the desk, “these are all I have returned,” he mused moving to some other stacks further away from the desk.

“You have returned all these,” she gasped, “do you have any fun other than read,” Jane said in disbelief.

His eyes met hers, “I have an awful time sleeping,” he confessed spying the set he had accumilated for his next need. Bending he gathered them, “I will be off now,” he noted. 

“Have a good morning,” she said as he began to walk away. 

Mr. Smith paused opening his mouth as if to say something. The jerk his body made turning to face her as he had been leaving caused some books to fall from his stacked pile, “there we go,” he sighed.

“Let me help you,” she insisted closing the gap between them.

“No, no. I’ve got it,” he tried looking down and pausing, “how best to retrieve,” he questioned as if the easy answer was amiss to him. “Tell you what, if you could take these,” he motioned moving the books remaining in his hands to her open arms and bent picking up the fallen ones.

Shaking her head she huffed out air, “good,” she queried. 

He nodded, “no harm done,” he agreed beginning to walk. Mr. Smith used his back to open the door and hold it open for her.

“I take it you want me to follow you,” said Jane walking through the opening he had created.

His face was struck as he stopped, “yes, so you are, sorry,” he apologized.

“I can carry this half,” she noted offering a kind smile.

Mr. Smith’s eyes crinkled, “brilliant idea. Brilliant you are,” he practically cheered for her. 

“We make a great team,” she dismissed.

He nodded, “don’t we just,” John agreed.

She paused waiting for him, “so are these boks being taken in any particular direction?”

“Yes this way,” he said leading her down the hallway. “Ms. Doe,” he began but stopped seeing her face at his use of name.

“Truth be told I would much rather be called Miss Jane. Ms. Doe sounds, well, not very much like me,” she explained.

He smiled, “ah Miss Jane it is,” he agreed.

She continued to walk beside him, “although, since you were the one that ensured my safety and Jane is likely not my real name you could even say Jane,” she offered.

“Jane,” he questioned.

She nodded, “that is what my friends call me. Well, what Joan calls me,” she corrected. 

“Well,” he began.

“It is John correct,” she noted seeing his cheeks pinken at her use of his name.

He cleared his throat, “yes, yes it is,” he agreed looking away from her face and gazing out the window. 

She could see a slight smile on his face, “John the stairs,” she mentioned noticing his feet.

“What about the stairs,” he questioned as he tumbled down them face first, books flopping with papers coming loose. 

She scurried down beside him trying to miss the books that lay scatter on his flight down and piled atop him, “are you alright,” she worried setting her stack of books down and running her hand along his head that was laying on the floor.

He winced as her hand touched a pat on the back of his head, “I am fine,” he declared as she brought her hand back noticing a tiny bit of blood.

“We are going to see Joan,” she demanded picking up his books. John wearily stood trying to gather the books he had dropped, “stop and stay right there,” she ordered hurrying to prevent anyone else from tripping on his lost books.

“I do say,” he tried.

Jane’s eyes came up and met his, her ginger hair having fallen out just enough to frame her face, “nothing, you say nothing until we see Joan,” she glared. She motioned for him to move and marched alongside him.

“There is no need,” he tried to dismiss.

She could see a tiny bit of blood drip down the back of his head, “I am not taking no for an answer if you ever expect to set foot in my library again,” huffed Jane.

At this his mouth closed as they moved around the corner. Jane used her back like John had to open the door to Joan’s office, “books,” Joan noticed seeing Jane and then John.

“He’s had a tumble, bleeding from the back of his head,” she noted setting the books down.

John stood there, “I am fine,” he dismissed.

Squaring her shoulders with him Jane placed her hands on her hips, “sit down and let her look at you,” she ordered. 

Realizing he was not going to win John sat. He winced when Joan touched the back of his head, “the boys fuss less than you with a split knee,” sassed Jane bringing Joan supplies to disinfect his wound.

“It hurts,” he noted.

She offered him a small smile, “if you are good I might break into Joan’s secret stash of candy and give you one,” she mocked as he inhaled sharply at the feel of iodine meeting his wound.

“Jane, don’t give my secrets away,” she hushed her friend.

A smile appeared on his face, “oh I promise not to tell,” he declared. “Boys need a bit of reminding of home,” he agreed.

“Is he all right,” Martha burst in.

John, Jane and Joan all looked up startled, “excuse me Martha,” she inquired, “it is hardly good form to enter an office without knocking,” she reminded the servant.

“Sorry. Right. Yeah,” she dismissed, “but is he all right? They said you fell down the stairs sir,” she worried.

He shook his head trying not to wince as Joan continued to disinfect it, “just a tumble that’s all,” he disregarded.

“Have you checked for concussion,” Martha pushed.

Joan looked up appalled, “I daresay I know a lot more about it than you,” she flummoxed.

“Sorry,” Martha apologized, “I’ll just go and tidy your things,” she sunk leaving them. 

Turning her attention back to John she ensured that the bleeding had stopped, “strange behavior for a servant,” she bemused.

“I am all she has left. Likely worried I’ve become incapacitated and left her to the school,” he explained.

Jane sat on one of the beds across from him, “she does seem especially concerned with you and bright,” she noted. “Did you teach her to read,” questioned Jane. 

“No, no, no, Nottingham is more than civilized with colored individuals. One day they may even be free to vote,” he said nonchalantly as if he was recalling a memory.

Seeing the fear on Joan’s face at his words Jane could not understand why. What he said somehow felt right to her. “Your wound should heal if you leave it alone, just a small gash,” Joan instructed.

John stood gathering his books, “I should be off,” he conceded. “Good day,” he addressed nodding to them both.

“Good Day,” they echoed. 

As John left Joan turned to her friend, “better get back before the headmaster finds you have gone missing on your first day,” she urged.

Smiling Jane nodded, “right,” she agreed hurrying back to the library. She had almost made it up the stairs when she eyed a book that must have been missed in her hurry to get John to Joan. She picked it up and took it to the library with her. She would find a time to return it to him later she reasoned with herself.


	5. Chapter 5

Saturday, one of the best days of the week Jane found herself thinking for no apparent reason. She was hoping to get back to the library today when no one would be able to interrupt asking for books. She would have it organized if it was the death of her. But right now she was awaiting Joan to meet her for tea. She eyed the paper carefully noticing the eye that Mr. Condon kept giving her for wanting to be aware of worldly affairs.

Her hand absently played with her cup as she brought it to her lips once again, “excuse me, is this seat taken,” a familiar voice asked. Allowing the paper to drop Jane with met with the golden brown circles that belonged to Mr. Smith.

“Yes, erm, no,” she corrected sitting straighter and folding the paper. “Sit,” she instructed and he happily obliged. 

John looked up as the waitress, Florence, came up to him, “a scone and a fresh pot,” he ordered looking to Jane, “would you like anything more,” he hoped.

“No, thank you. I’ve already finished one and two cups as I wait for Jane,” she dismissed.

Florence left and his face fell, “I have interrupted your waiting,” he worried.

“No,” Jane promised, “she would be happy to have you join us,” she grinned.

His hand tapped on the table distracting her, “is something wrong,” he worried taking her face in.

“What is that from,” Jane questioned.

Pausing John stopped, “no idea,” he commented moving it to fiddle with the napkin to cause less attention.

She swore she had heard that beat before, “do you come here often,” Jane asked changing the subject.

“A few times. I am a regular at the bakery,” he clarified, “they have great muffins. Muffins are a great thing. Who has anything against muffins,” he rambled.

“Oh,” she nodded having gone in there a couple times herself. Joan preferred their pies to her own. Jane noticed him raise his hand to his head and think twice before putting it back in his lap, “how is your head? Keeping it away from stairs,” she inquired.

“Yes, far away,” he agreed.

They fell into silence as his tea and scones arrived. He poured himself a cup and refreshed Jane’s despite her protest, “do you have big plans for today,” she inquired noticing the way he slopped marmalade on. His finger practically twitched wanting to catch the falling pieces and she assumed that he would have if he were in private. 

“No, thought I would walk about town,” he amused, “and you?”

Jane smiled, “Joan was going to show me the shops, where to get the best things and where to stay away from, she noted looking at the time, “I am not sure what has kept her,” she worried.

“Possibly cricket, there was a head to head collision between a couple of the boys that turned into a tussle,” he recalled.

“Ah,” she grimaced thinking of the mess Joan would have to tend to. “I guess I should not expect her,” she trailed off straightening, “I should go then Mr. Smith. 

His hand reached out lightly touching hers before he settled it on the table, “I could show you,” he offered.

“No, I could not ruin your relaxing day,” she exclaimed.

“It would not be at all,” he blurted his eyes widening at his own surprise suggestion. 

She shifted in her chair, “yes,” she accepted his invitation.

Excited John shoved the rest of his scone in his mouth catchin the marmalade with his finger and just as Jane has suspected licked it clean. He stood and went up to pay for both their scones and teas before she could even protest. He stood by her, “are you ready,” he queried. Standing Jane noticed him put his arm out for her but she felt even this was too forward and walked before him out of the door. Taking her hint John came beside her and steered her to the left, “this is Alexander Shuttleworth’s museum,” he pointed out upon seeing the closed sign. “He has fantastic things in there, even better things in the back. If you ask he might be willing to show you,” mentioned John. Jane’s face blushed, like she could do such a thing and go into a closed room with a man without being ruined. On the other hand she wasn’t sure why she should care if others thought she was ruined. She might be already. There was a small building beside it a few meters away, “Mr. Gail tries to get the best art equipment,” he noted pointing to the shop

“Do you practice art,” questioned Jane suddenly watching his features. She figured he was more of a quiet at home man, art would likely be just the thing he did.

John nodded, “not very good. I draw from time to time. Things I see, things I dream of, things I find beautiful,” he prattled on.

He walked by the pub as if to dismiss it even existed, “are you a prohibitionist,” she wondered aloud.

John’s cheeks reddened, “no, I’ll have you know I drink,” he boasted. His mouth paused noticing the confusion in her face, “oh, I thought it improper to point out a pub when you cannot buy,” he softened.

She wanted to reach out and brush the fringe out of his eyes but it wasn’t her place. Turing she looked ahead, “I think I like a good drink,” she recalled. Jane actually felt like she could remember drinking too much but like all her possible memories it was just out of her reach.

“Sherry,” he inquired.

“Possibly,” she shrugged unsure what she had tasted before or what she prefered.

His eyes met her gaze, “good morning Mr. Smith,” acknowledged a teacher Jane had seen around the school. John nodded to him as they continued to walk.

“Now, if you like corned beef rolls you have to go to Farmer’s Arms. When I miss my mum’s cooking I go there,” he said distantly.

“Corned beef, are you Irish,” Jane questioned.

John paused, “my parents are from Gallifrey,” he acknowledged.

“Is that in Ireland,” she wondered aloud but received no answer. 

His face crumpled as if confused, “my father Sidney was a watchmaker from Nottingham and my mother Verity was a nurse,” he recalled. 

“Sounds like a wonderful family,” Jane said wishing she could recall her own. Somewhere they were out there waiting for her, she knew it was true. She shook her head, quickly wiping a tear that had escaped.

Stopping John lowered his voice, “I did not mean to upset you Jane,” his voice almost broke at causing her hurt. “I only meant to tell you more about myself,” he pled for her understanding.

“I know. It is not your fault,” she promised.

“Let me accompany you home to ensure you make it safely,” he coaxed.

She licked her lips and nodded, “yes please,” Jane affirmed. Walking she wanted to reach for his hand. Jane couldn’t understand why she wished to do something so bold that would make her the talk of the village. Shaking the thought from her head she watched John. He seemed so meadioaker to be a teacher, “what made you want to be a teacher,” she questioned.

“I guess I love knowledge. Loved it so much that I kept learning and found that I knew so much about history there was not much else for me to do,” he described.

Jane gazed at the way his face lit up talking about history, “seems romantic,” she concurred. 

“Oh, anything but. History is full of rage, fear, death, very little love,” he corrected.

Laughing she rolled her eyes, “you know how to sell it,” she insisted.

Walking up to the familiar gate Joan was coming home as well, “oh Jane, I am sorry I missed you,” she began.

“That is fine. Mr. Smith was happy enough to show me around and walk me home,” she explained.

Joan stood there looking at the close proximity of the two, “Mr. Smith,” she began, “would you like to come in for tea and a game of whist? I have been dying to teach Jane to play and two who know how to do it would be better than one, especially a teacher like yourself,” she invited him.

“Whist,” his face lit up, “I would love to,” he practically insisted.


	6. Chapter 6

Although slow on the uptake, Jane soon became a pro at Whist. So much that she and John would almost go to war playing late into the night. It was a new normalcy that they had arrived at. Jane and Joan would go home and John would come around later with a bit of after dinner sherry to enjoy away from prying eyes as they would play Whist while listening to music until Joan turned in.She looked up at the time, “oh, you better be going before Joan think me a ruined woman,” she worried noticing that it was half past 9.

John’s face fell as the grammar phone switched to a new song causing his face to rise again, “Jane, may I have this dance,” he queried.

Her eyes popped open, suddenly feeling wide awake, “what,” she swallowed.

“The dance,” he hinted standing and holding a arm out to her.

“I am not sure I know how to dance,” she protested.

Waiting patiently he continued to stand there, “we could try to see. Muscle memory should chip in,” he suggested.

Tentatively Jane stood taking John’s hand. He brought her right hand up with his left, placing his right hand on her upper back and pulled her closer still maintaining distance between their bodies. She looked down at their feet, “are we too close,” he worried.

“No,” she said a little too abruptly. “I am sorry. I just was trying to make sure my feet were right. I am not sure they are,” she apologized.

He looked down brushing his forehead against hers, “looks correct,” he encouraged. Offering her a smile. 

Inhaling in she nodded she was ready as John lead her back. The first step was easy. The second too and quickly Jane found that she was not very bad at dancing while John led, “you are good at this,” she admired.

“Quite surprised,” he admitted as the continued to move and turn at his lead. There was something that Jane found herself completely comfortable in this close proximity to John with his hand on her that she found relaxing. Something about allowing him to guide where she went that left her uneasy about how right it felt. “You also seem to be good,” he complemented.

“It is easy with you,” she praised.

However the break in their concentration took a turn, “O,” John muffled his mouth as her foot met his. 

“I am sorry,” she said pulling back in haste.

John stepped forward, “we could try again. I could teach you,” he hoped.

Looking at the time Jane shook her head, “you really should go,” she protested.

He nodded gathering his coat and hat from the rack by the door, “goodnight Jane.”

“Goodnight John,” she wished.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jane had heard the bell ring signaling the end of the day. As she made her way down the stairs she ran into John, “Miss Jane,” he greeted seeing students near by.

“Mr. Smith,” she greeted in return.

They awkwardly stood above the stairs, “are you leaving,” he questioned.

“Yes,” she admitted.

His mouth opened and then closed as if worried about confessing his thoughts, “may I accompany you,” he began.

Jane’s smile spread across her face, “yes,” she agreed.   
They had barely made it out the front and to the cricket field. “What a lovely Thursday afternoon,” she sighed. Almost far too lovely. Jane could feel the excitement of spring coming to life around her. 

“Um, Jane,” Mr. Smith swallowed, “do you mind, would it be okay if, could I possibly sketch you,” he stammered.

Warmth spread across her cheeks, “Mr. Smith,” she softly said not meeting his eyes.

“I understand if that is too forward of myself,” he agreed starting to back up in retreat 

Jane reached out, “no, I mean,” she let out a breath of air, “yes you may. I would love it,” she acquiesced.

He nervously stood there, “you see, it is only, my supplies are in my study,” he explained.

She had been there once before. It felt like lifetimes ago. “That is fine,” she informed him.

Moving his arm out for Jane to walk in front of him John stepped beside her. They walked back to the school watching others. Jane couldn’t believe that Mr. Smith would want to sketch her. “Miss,” he said opening the door for her. She watched the boys pass them unknowing. She knew there was nothing improper about being sketched but something about John doing it in his room made it feel more intimate, like it was not allowed. 

He opened his door, allowing for her to walk in before him. Jane looked around at the bookcases strewn with mementos of his well lived life. His leather couches, bed in the corner. Suddenly she felt improper with the bed looming so near. Not that they would ever do anything, but what would others think if they knew they were in here? “Where should I sit,” she questioned.

“The couch is fine. Would you like a pillow? Tea,” he suddenly worried wanting to make her comfortable. 

Sitting Jane smoothed her green dress over her legs taking a deep breath in, “is this good,” she queried feeling uncomfortable and self-conscious about what she agreed to do.

“Yes,” he acknowledged gathering a notebook and pencils and sat across from her on the couch. His pencil met the paper as he stole glances of her from the leather bound book. She watched as his face took in all the details of her own, memorizing them and committing them to history in his notebook. The mixture of quiet and stillness did not sit well with her. Jane wasn’t sure why but she thought that this was unusual for him. Instead she focused on the crisp white shirt and grey suit that appeared to be perfectly fit to him. The way his hair fell into his face and his eyelashes flickered. He was rather remarkable.

Some time later John lifted his pencil from the page, using his thumb to caress the image he had created. He allowed the book to drop down, “can I see,” asked Jane. Standing John’s long legs quickly closed the distance between couches and sat beside her. His arm resting slightly behind her on the couch. Handing her the book he leaned in watching as her face lit up. Before her the drawing he had made looked nothing like what she had ever seen. She was beautiful. “Oh Goodness, do I look like that,” Jane gasped as he leaned further in. 

His eyes lit up searching hers, looking from her to what he had just created, “you like it,” he searched hoping that he had not offended her.

“You’ve made me far too beautiful,” Jane gasped.

She could feel John’s eyes on her as she gazed at his artwork, “well, that’s how I see you,” he proclaimed. 

Looking up she caught his face, he looked at her like she was the woman on the page. John’s eyes were staring at her lips. Upon noticing this Jane licked them. She did not mean to bring further attention. His eyes darted to the ginger curl falling by her ear. Tenderly he raised his hand stroking it as he leaned in, “John,” she called as his lips met hers. 

His lips were tender and soft, just lightly meeting hers. Jane’s eyes flickered closed. She could feel his warm breath tickle her lips as her head swayed back. All too soon his lips were gone from hers. Her eyes flickered open seeing John’s face remained in close proximity easy to reach. He inhaled deeply, “I’ve never, um,” he nervously tried to explain.   
This time Jane leaned in, her lips opening and meeting John’s open mouth as they met again. Lips meeting and massaging each other as an arm came around her, pulling Jane closer. John leaned further in propelling them toward the back of the couch as his door opened. Pulling back irritation floored across his face as Jane refused to look up considering the predicament they were just caught in. “Martha, what have I told you about entering unannounced,” he growled. 

Martha hurried in as if she had something important to say, stopping short seeing the two of them. Jane could feel his arm around her still. Jane knew the look on Martha’s face. It was the look of heartbreak. Running from the room Martha, closing the door abruptly and leaving them alone again. Swallowing Jane smoothed her dress, “um, I better be going,” she stammered feeling the flush prevalent on her cheeks. 

“Could you stay,” he almost begged.

She shook her head, “I think it better I go,” Jane affirmed.

Nodding John took her hand pressing a kiss to it, “may I have the pleasure of asking you to dinner with me,” he asked. Taken aback her eyes blinked shut, searching his face, “I would like to court you,” he clarified.

“Court me,” echoed Jane.

Letting go of her hand John nodded, “yes. I, um, have, erm, feelings for you and if I may be so bold believe you have them for me too,” he cleared his throat holding his hands behind his back and rocked on his heels. 

Jane licked her lips letting the breath she had been holding out, “yes,” she smiled.

“Dinner Saturday,” he hoped.

A smile spread across her face as Jane ducked her head peering up at him through her lashes, “yes John, I would love to.”

“Very well then,” he smiled in return and let Jane leave.

She was one lucky girl and Jane knew every minute of it. She rushed down the stairs and into Joan’s office. She was checking over a boy but nodded a hello to Jane. Sitting down Jane took a deep breathe in. She couldn’t believe it. “Take one of these in the morning and a hot bath tonight,” she instructed leading the boy out and closing the door behind him. “What is it,” she questioned seeing the blush high on Jane’s cheeks.

“Mr. Smith has asked me to dinner,” she practically squealed. 

Jane smiled wiping her hands on her apron, “rightly so,” she nodded.

“What,” Jane gasped.

Sitting in the chair across from her Joan relaxed into it, “you two have been growing closer over these past few weeks. It only makes sense that he would want to take you out,” she noted.

“You never said,” she protested before breaking out into another smile and licking her lips. Jane leaned down, closer to Joan, “I let him sketch me today and he kissed me twice!”

Joan’s eyes grew wider, “careful some around her would have you kicked out if they knew you two were cavorting in his rooms,” she warned.

“It is nothing like that,” dismissed Jane. “John would never, he’s a respectable man. He respects me,” she admired.

Standing Joan looked at the clock, “we better look through my older dresses. I think I must have one that is dinner worthy,” she hinted.

Jane didn’t even wait to say yes. She stood and grabbed Joan’s hand making for the door, “Saturday cannot come soon enough,” she declared leaving the office.


	7. Chapter 7

Dinner couldn’t come soon enough. Jane had practically bit her fingers off in worry over dinner. Dinner was not something that she could remember doing with someone although she was sure she had. Her breath hitched hearing a knock at the door, “Hello John,” she greeted opening it.

“Jane,” he replied smiled wide on his face.

She stilled in the doorway, “would you like to come in,” she questioned.

“No, we should be going,” he hinted as Jane reached for her jacked shrugging it on.

He moved aside so she could come out of the house and extended his arm to her which she avoided taking once again, “how was your day? We missed you at church,” she began.

“I am sorry,” John apologied, “I became a bit carried away with reading,” he acknowledged.

Laughing Jane batted her eyes, “I expect a visit tomorrow then,” she joked.

“Rightly so,” he grinned continuing to walk, “I do hope the Farmers Arms suits you well,” he reasoned.

Jane nodded, “anywhere you take me would be,” she promised hoping he would not read desperation into her declaration.

His eyes met hers with a glimmer in them as the walked into town, “I have enjoyed being able to visit you in the library,” he confessed.

Her breath hitched wondering if she should admit her own feelings. She did give him permission to court her earlier this week so he had to know there was some sort of feeling she held for him, “I look forward to your visits,” she revealed.

Walking up to the Farmers Arms John opened the door for her allowing Jane to go in. He spotted a table for two and pulled out her chair allowing her to sit. A tender came over, “we have two dinners today,” she announced, “spring lamb with mint sauce and green peas or roast turkey with cranberry sauce and pureed turnips.”

John and Jane met eyes, “what would you like,” he pushed allowing her to opt first.

“I think I will have the turkey,” she said aloud.

“Then I will have the lamb,” John noted allowing the waitress to leave.

The two of them sat there quietly for a few minutes, “Jane,” he began, “I was wondering what books you enjoy reading,” he questioned.

Her cheeks reddened, “nothing as fancy as you,” she confessed.

“Surely it must be noteworthy if it is warranting your eyes,” he encouraged.

Jane leaned in closer across the table, “Little Women, I found one in the library and snuck it home. I am not sure if I am able to take books but I wanted to read it,” she offered.

His mind recalled the book but he could not remember one word of it, “I cannot say I have read it.”

“I could loan it to you again. I feel like my father once read it to me,” she trailed off, “yet I do not believe I am young enough to have a memory of him reading it to me while I was young,” she corrected. 

John’s eyes met hers. He reached up as if to caress her face and stopped knowing it improper. Clearing his throat he nodded, “memories can be a fickle thing. If I could bring back every memory you lost I would,” he dared.

“And what if I had some great love,” she joked.

He stilled. He had had that thought often. That he was lucky to find a girl like Jane and one day she would regain her memories and leave him. “If it brought you happiness I would do it,” he declared.

Warmth spread down her cheeks, “thank you,” was all she could say. It scared her how much emotion had just passed before his eyes, how much emotion she felt when she was around him. It was the one thing that felt right, like she had known him all her life at such an intimate level. 

Their dinner interrupted the improper intimateness they were sharing causing them both to distance themselves and remember that they were not closed off and alone but before others. The silence grew as they finished their meals quietly. Both unsure what to say to the other. John wanted so badly to take away the sadness that had appeared in Jane’s eyes. He also was unsure what to say to even make polite conversation. With anyone else he would ask about their likes or dislikes. He and Jane had already had those conversations while playing Whist. He could not ask about her family because she had no memory of them yet. 

Setting her fork and knife down Jane wiped at her mouth, “thank you John, this was lovely,” she complemented. 

His eyes met hers once again, “it was. We should do this more often,” John paused noticing what he said, “erm, the dinner I mean,” he paused again, “um, with your company if you would like,” he rambled.

She always thought it cute when he rambled, especially when he was nervous. He would swallow and blink more often and it was really rather adorable. “I would,” she agreed to stop his babbling. Standing John paid for their meal and handed Jane her coat and hat before taking his own. They both readied themselves for the walk back. As they came out the darkness was surrounding them, “how late are we,” she questioned worrying about what others would think once again. She didn’t know why she was always so preoccupied with the thoughts of how others would view her.

“Half past seven,” he recalled offering his arm.

Taking it Jane moved closer to him, “with how bright the sun is during the day it still amazes me how chilly it turns as it goes down,” she shivered.

“I see you decided to take my arm,” he grinned like the cat who got the milk.

Jane felt the need to knock his ego but felt it improper, “only because of the chill in the air,” she finally settled on noticing his smile did not fade. There was something serene and natural about the two of them walking under the stars, “it really is beautiful,” she said looking up at the sky.

“Yes, you are, erm,” John paused realizing that he had fumbled what was proper to say again.

Her cheeks flamed at his admission, “John, I,” her heart beat faster trying to think of the words. They paused and he turned to look at her, his lips meeting hers before stopping. 

When she had closed her eyes as he kissed her, he could see that she was afraid, “I am sorry,” he apologized. “The moon shaded your face in a brilliant light,” he reached up tangling his finger in a fallen curl of hers, “Jane, when I am around you things feel right. As if a piece of me is missing but you help me feel whole,” he confessed.

She could feel her chest tightened, he had been feeling the same thing she had. Even without memories it was as he made it alright. “John I am feeling overwhelmed,” she disclosed.

Immediately he stepped back leaving her heart and body missing his close proximity, “Ms. Doe,” he spoke, “if I may apologize for my actions,” he began.

Stepping forward she placed a hand on his chest, “I only mean,” she tried, “that, I feel the same,” she explained.

He pulled her to her, smoothing his hands on her back and brought their chaste lips together once again. As if a spark had hit him John pulled back from her, “will you marry me,” he questioned.

Startled she blinked in reply. Marry him? This had only been their first time out alone. John’s face began to fall as her silence lingered, “um, could you give me a few days,” she hoped.

“Of course,” he nodded extending his arm for her to once again take it as they started to walk back to the cottage.

“John,” she began, “what about a ring? If I say yes, you could see that I have accepted your offer.”

She could feel his body tense beside hers, “I hadn’t actually,” his voice dropped.

“You mean you hadn’t planned it,” Jane noted.

“No,” he said dropping her arm and beginning to search his pockets, “but I mean it completely.” “Ah,” he cheered pulling his hand out of his brown overcoat. In his hand he held a simple band with a blue jewel, “not sure where I got it. Maybe it was mine,” he tried to recall.

Taking the ring she placed it nearer to his fingers, “you lying minx,” she joked showing him that it would not have fit his own.

John’s eyes were on her, “your blushing,” he accused.

“Am I? Good,” she grinned placing the ring in her own pocket and taking his arm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've read the book and not just watched the movie you will know it's like suddenly John is grasping at anything to stay human and the proposal comes practically out of nowhere. It's one of my favorite books and I've had it since I was a little girl. I do love the episodes that Paul wrote as well and honestly favor them as they are what brought me to Doctor Who (plus ten as human omg) but it there is so much that you had to skimp on in order to tell a two hour story.


	8. Chapter 8

Since John had left her Jane had difficulty sleeping. She shoved on the housecoat Joan had let her borrow and turned the light on in the kitchen, setting the kettle on she took out a cup and waited before pouring herself a cuppa and settling at the kitchen table. On one hand Jane knew that she loved John. She knew that Marrying John was what her heart and mind wanted her to do. And even if she hadn’t loved him the best course for her was toto marry John. A husband would protect her and keep her safe in the years to come. Plus, she was past child bearing years were already gone. How many other men would want an old maid? No, she was lucky that John and she had become such a thing and the fact that they shared feelings was a blessing.

“Have you slept,” Joan questioned. At seeing Jane her face tightened, “did something happen?”

She sat up straighter scrubbing her face, “no, I am sorry. Did I wake you?”

Joan could see something was plaguing her friend, “I turned in before you returned, did Mr. Smith get you back here safely,” she worried.

“Yes,” she paused, “when you married how did you know it was right,” she asked.

Walking past Jane, Joan poured herself a cup of tea and sunk into her chair, “I loved Arthur. Even to this day. I do not know I will find someone like him. We were childhood sweethearts. He and I were almost neighbors. When he asked we had not even courted,” she let out her breath smiling fondly. “My father nearly raged when he found out,” she giggled. “In the end I knew that without him I was lesser of a woman. I wanted to be around him, I was a different woman. I was a woman, not just a girl and I would have done anything for him,” she recalled. 

“Oh, Joan,” sighed Jane.

Taking a sip of her tea Joan watched her friend, “are you hoping Mr. Smith will propose,” she asked idly.

Slipping her hand from the table Jane felt in her pocket to where she had most recently put the ring. Bringing it out she placed the blue gemmed ring on the table, “he did tonight,” she revealed.

“Well,” Joan noted, “are you not in love with Mr. Smith,” she questioned.

Jane eyed the ring twirling it around her finger, “it is not that,” she dismissed.

“What is it then,” queried Joan.

Her heart fell and her head rumbled. She was scared. “I think i love him so much,” Jane started to cry, “what if something happens,” she sobbed.

Reaching out Joan placed her hand on Jane’s. “Arthur died at the Battle of Spion Kop. It is the reason I became a nurse. I wanted to be able to help in a way that he had needed. I was angry at the army for a long time. I was angry at him too,” she paused. “I had a husband that I loved and he died. I would still marry him again if I knew how it would end. TO have him in my life those years, to share my life with him,” she trailed off. 

“His love was worth the brokenness,” she questioned.

Joan nodded, “yes,” she promised.

Her eyes fell back to the ring. Something so small, yet meant so much and had such power. Jane picked it up and put it on the second finger of her left hand, “I am going to be a married woman,” she solomely said before a smile started to break free of the fear. She turned to Joan, “oh I know I need to tell John but you have been so helpful and I cannot imagine standing there without you by my side. Would you be my matron of honor,” she hoped.

A smile spread across Joan’s face now, “I would love to Jane,” she agreed before the two hugged. Separating Joan sat back taking another sip of tea, “do you think you will be able to sleep now,” she questioned. 

“I might just be too excited,” giggled Jane as if she were a school girl.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

All day Jane had been hoping John would come return his books. She had hoped before classes began, during lunch and now after. But he still had not showed up. It would be dinner time soon and Jane was not sure if John would come for their nightly game of Whist while his proposal lingered in the air. Even if he was not aware it no longer lingered over him.

She put away the most recent returns, eyeing the clock again. Walking over Jane twisted the sign to note that the library was closed. She took off her apron allowing the purple fabric of her dress to hit the light. Carefully Jane pulled the ring out of her pocket and placed it back on her finger. Several times throughout the day she felt herself fingering it and she had hoped to put it on upon seeing John. However, she did not want anyone to find out before John so she had decided to hide it until the time was right. 

It took everything in her not to down the stairs, across the hall and up the other flight before reaching the door labeled with his name. She raised her arm to knock when John startled her, “Miss Jane,” he greeted making her jump, “oh I am sorry,” he apologized. It took everything in her not to laugh at him in his gown and mortarboard. Somehow she had never seen him wear it and everything in her wanted to make fun of it. 

“No, no, I was just expecting you to be in your study,” she laughed at herself.

Leaning against the door John met her eyes, he put more of his weight on the door as it to seem nonchalant by the fact she was visiting him. With one more shift John had fallen inside, “the maid must not have closed it,” he noted from his bum.

Looking in Jane had no choice but to giggle at his bemused expression, “may I come in,” she questioned.

“Oh yes, yes,” he agreed standing and closing the door behind her. Ensuring the door was closed he lingered closer to her pressing his lips for a chaste kiss, “was there something you needed,” he questioned pulling away and leaving both of their bodies wanting more. 

Jane nodded, “I thought you had books to return,” she suggested. 

He walked over to a stack on the table beside his reading spot on the couch and took a seat motioning for her to sit, “I thought I was and then I decided I might have another read of each of them.”

She couldn’t believe he had read them all once already nor was thinking of reading them again. John looked up at her wondering why she had not taken a seat, “John, I wonder if, um, may I, could Ii sit on your lap?” His eyes grew wider, “I am sorry that if that is too bold,” she worried.

“No, erm, you may,” he eagerly agreed. Straightening her purple skirt she sat across his legs, allowing his arms to come around her waist, “is this okay,” he hoped.

She smiled looking into his brown pools, “yes,” she felt her cheeks already warming from the blush creeping across them. She placed an arm around his neck, “do you notice anything different about me today,” she questioned.

John looked over her hair, face, and outfit, “beautiful as always especially in purple,” he acknowledged. 

“Or more particularly in this area,” Jane smiled waving her hand.

His eyes focused in on her finger, “the ring you’ve accepted,” John beamed.

“I have,” she agreed.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he jumped up pulling her to him and swung her in a circle, “you have made me the happiest man.”

“Imagine when I marry you,” she laughed realizing what she had accidently hinted to and blushed furiously. 

He paused, “may I call you my sweetheart,” John hoped.

“Yes,” she smiled.

“I shall talk to the vicar in the morning,” he promised pulling her close to him again and meeting her lips. His hands lingered on her waist as hers delicately played with the small hairs on the back of his neck.

“Mr. Smith,” Sartha called seeing the two of them, lips and hands grazing one another.

He pulled back instantly, “Martha what have I told you about coming in without knocking,” he growled.

“You should not be seen doing such a thing,” she lectured.

“A house maid lecturing her master. Well I’ll be. I will not have anyone lecture me on what I do or do not do with the woman becoming my wife,” he huffed.

Martha’s heart broke and her chest ached, “you’re getting married,” she said looking between the two of them.

“Yes,” he declared lifting Jane’s hand and showing her the ring there. She had to get out of there now Martha ran out slamming the door behind her. She needed to hide. “I do not know what gets into her head,” he angrily rambled annoyed at the audacity, “she was in my family. I have only cared for her,” he continued oblivious.

“Oh, John,” sighed Jane she had seen the hurt in Martha’s face.

“What,” he paused.

How he could be so oblivious to so many things railed her, “she loves you,” Jane revealed.

“No,” he dismissed, “nothing would ever come of that. Different cultures,” he said as if it so plane to see.

“I should go,” she began.

John halted her pulling her close again, “please do not would you join me for dinner.”

She stilled in his arms, before placing a kiss to his mouth, “how about you come over after dinner for Whist,” she offered.

He pulled her closer to him, “I love you,” he declared.

Jane’s cheeks brightened pink, “I love you John,” she promised.

Leaving him alone Jane walked down the stairs. She had known where the maids quartered but had never been there. Carefully she walked over to that area, unsure if she was allowed to go there. She reached up knocking on the door but it was not latched. She could hear crying coming from within, “Martha she questioned.

The maid stood wiping at her face, “yes ma’am sorry had a bit of dust in my eyes. Trying to clean them out she lied. Walking over to her she did not have anything against Jane other than the Doctor had fallen for her rather than. She dropped that thought he wasn't going to marry Jane anyways. The Doctor would become himself again and this poor girl had no idea what she was in for.

“I know you love Mr. Smith,” she began.

Martha’s mouth gapped, “I do not,” she denied.

“It is okay. I am not here to dismiss you or bring attention to it to the headmaster,” she promised. “I simply want to let you know that I am aware. I know I do not have all my memories but when I saw your face,” she trailed off. “I know I have suffered heartbreak,” Jane explained, “and I am sorry for any that Mr Smith and I have caused you due to our love.”

This woman was actually apologizing to her for falling in love with the doctor. Martha felt like she should be the one apologizing because she had no clue what would rip her worlds apart in a month and a half. “Miss,” she began, “you should be careful.”

Jane’s mouth dropped open. “I’m sorry,” she worried at the maid’s words something that had been in the back of her mind since the proposal. “I know he would never hurt me,” she tersely noted. “Sometimes it's like he's left the kettle on. Like he knows he has something to get back to, but he can't remember what,” she trailed off. Would that mean he would forget about her and move onto someone else? 

Martha stepped closer, “that's just him,” she dismissed. 

Maybe there had been something between them, maybe that is what Jane had been feeling, “you arrived with him, didn't you? He found you employment here at the school, isn't that right?”

“Yes, ma’am. I used to work for the family. He just sort of inherited me,” she lied.

Jane crinkled her face she could tell there was something more Martha was not saying but John had not let anything else on, “well, I'd be careful. If you don't mind my saying, you sometimes seem a little familiar with him. I know that comes easily with him,” she explained.

“I’m sorry,” Martha apologized.

Her mind was going a mile a minute, “It’s like I’ve known him for years,” she stopped herself unsure why she was willing to be so honest with a maid. “I better be going I am sure you have work to do,” she noted.

“Yes, ma'am,” agreed Martha as Jane turned to leave.

She needed to hurry home and warn Joan that John would be resuming their nightly Whist games.


	9. Chapter 9

Their nightly antics had resumed that Monday night although John and Jane became a bit less formal behind the closed doors of Joan’s house. John looked at the cards Jane had set before him, “woman I am just going to have to marry you tonight and a enforce a strict rule about honoring your husband by not whipping in Whist.”

“Says the man who has still to inform the vicar,” Jane laughed pouring tea at John’s proclamation to marry her tonight to keep her from beating him senseless at Whist yet had managed to miss the vicar the last three times her tried to visit. Joan was rolling her eyes as she grabbed biscuits.

“Actually,” he began, “I ran into the vicar on my way here. Erm, stopped by his place,” he noted, “he said we could marry as early as next Saturday. I may have paid the fee for the license today. I hope it was not presumptuous.”

She set the kettle on and paused, “next Saturday,” Jane echoed. A sense of regret filled within her. Her own Mum and Dad would not be there because she hadn’t remembered them yet.

“We could wait,” John suggested noticing something was wrong, “I would never dream of rushing you,” he said clambering up and taking his hand in hers. 

She met his gaze, “we will have no family,” she realized aloud. 

“You are all the family I need,” he promised placing her hand to his lips.

Jane smiled, “simple and sweet, no usher's, no fanfare,” she declared.

“You are going to wear a white dress are you not,” hoped John. 

She didn't even have money to pay for the wedding. “Maybe,” she lazily said trying not to show the shattering of her dream in which she would wear a white dress. 

Joan set her biscuits down, “you could use mine. It was only worn the once and I have no children,” she suggested.

She couldn’t believe her luck, “are you sure,” Jane questioned.

“Yes, what else should a Matron of honor do,” she grinned.

John pulled Jane into a hug, “next Saturday it is,” he beamed. 

“But whoever will be your best man,” she worried. 

He had not thought of a best man but they would need a second witness, “I could ask Rocastle,” suggested John.

“Is he really who you want to have stand for you,” she queried.

His face fell as he met her eyes, “I care not who stands for me as long as you stand next to me and become my wife,” declared John. 

She quickly pulled him into a hug and let go again, “then we will be married next Saturday,” she smiled pressing a chaste kiss to his lips.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She looked at the large clock in the hall, if she did not hurry she would be late. She had promised to meet John for lunch. She heard the bell ring as she rounded the stairs up to his classroom, “morning ma’am,” a housemaid and Martha greeted her.”

“Good morning,” she said back waiting for the boys to thread down in belief that John would soon as well. 

Martha continued to clean the floor, “she’s kind to me like Mr. Smith. Not everyone is that considerate with me being,” she trailed off.

“A Londoner,” questioned the other maid.

Laughing Martha nodded, “excatly. Good old London town.

Two boys that had just walked by Jane stopped beside her, “er, now then, you two. You're not paid to have fun, are you? Put a little backbone into it,” he demanded.

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir,” the other maid apologized.

His eyes glared at Martha, “You there, what's your name again,” he growled.

“Martha, sir. Martha Jones,” she replied knowing full well where he was about to go. This one loved to make fun of the fact that she was different.

He leered over her, “tell me then, Jones. With hands like those, how can you tell when something's clean,” he said laughing.

Gripping the brush tighter it took everything in Martha not to speak back knowing that she could be dismissed for it. Jane however had heard enough, “oi, you two, come here,” she spat. The two boys paused unsure whether a librarian had any say over what they did, “you think you are very funny don’t you,” she mused of them.

“Yes ma’am,” the one agreed. Martha had to hold in a smirk as panic crossed their faces. 

“One day people like her will be ruling the world. Dare say she has more brains than you lot. Walking around mindlessly listening to orders, not thinking for yourself,” she shot. “Just because you believe someone to be beneath you gives you no right to dehumanize them,” Jane growled. Maybe, just maybe Martha had not given Jane a full chance. She has been nice to her since the first day they met. She never had to thank Martha for helping to save her and yet she did anyway.

Before the boys could respond she felt someone stop behind her, “Ms. Doe, Hutchinson, is something wrong,” John queried. He could see how tense Jane was and the fact that her voice was raised sent alarms off all over his mind as well as sent urges through his body that he would have to wait until next Saturday to do something about.

Hutchinson opened his mouth to explain, “no Mr. Smith, I was just giving them a lesson in life,” Jane explained letting the two boys off the hook, “go on or you’ll be late for lunch and your next class,” she urged trying to force herself to relax. 

She watched the two boys leave before she turned to John, “are you okay? You are shaking,” he emphasized. 

“I am sorry. I am angry,” she huffed.

John met her eyes, “whatever did they do,” he wondered.

“Bullying. I hate people who bully because they believe they are better. There is so much of it around here. Especially Hutchinson. I have seen him aim his tongue and fists at so many,” she sighed. 

He took her hand unable to hug her at that moment. Oh how he wanted to take her in his arms and promise it would all be okay, “I could order him to a lashing,” he offered hoping it would take some of the rage she felt inside. 

“No, I have seen how they go after Latimer. They would likely believe it was a result of something he said. They already talk of how you favor him,” explained Jane.

Motioning for her to take his arm Jane did and they began walking down the hallway in the opposite direction of the boys, “maybe we should take lunch in town. I do not have a class next period,” he suggested.

“Ms. Doe,” Martha came to them.

John eyed her unsure what behavior was about to come, “yes Martha,” he warily greeted. 

“I wanted to thank you. Not everyone is so kind with, well, with the color of my skin. You did not have to say anything and you did. I am grateful,” she said.

Her eyes softened on Martha, “they should have never said those things to you. Maid or not. You are a beautiful, bright young woman,” she noted. 

“Thank you again ma’am,” Martha said wanting to get back to Jenny before she finished cleaning without her. 

“You are welcome. Truly,” Jane said as she and John continued walking. Suddenly she was not so keen on lunch anymore.


	10. Chapter 10

“Jane, I found this on the front porch. It is addressed to you,” Joan said coming down from her attic.

For me,” she asked quizzically noticing the small package, “do you think it is from John,” she hoped smile spreading across her face.

“Possibly,” Joan agreed, “I only saw the back of his head. He was in a brown coat and had hair very much like Mr. Smith’s,” she agreed. 

She unwrapped the brown parchment paper and opened the box. “Oh my,” she gasped seeing the earrings. They was a perl dangling from a gemstone surrounded in elaborate metalwork. “They are breathtaking,” she continued to study them in awe. 

“We better get you dressed,” Joan reminded her.

Nodding Jane placed the earrings in her ears. She noticed they did not look bad hanging as her hair was up and it drew a nice attention to her neck. She saw Joan pulling a white dress out of a box. It was an off white floor length dress that she imagined would fit her body nicely, “thank you for allowing me to borrow this,” she said again.

Joan met her eyes, “I am happy that another can use this dress on their day. I hope you are as happy as Arthur and I were,” she declared helping Jane into the dress. As Joan buttoned the back Jane stared at herself. She had this odd memory of being in her room in a wedding dress much different than this one. But as she tried to hold onto it and think about it the memory or dream faded away. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Walking to the church Jane had not felt nervous. Standing outside waiting to go in all Jane felt was her stomach rumbling. Part of her had a feeling she never believed this day would come, especially to someone as devoted as John, someone who she loved as much as John. 

Hearing the music play Joan gave Jane a hug. She watched as Joan walked down the aisle in the beautiful blue dress she had in her closet. Jane was rather jealous of the amazing clothes Joan had. She must have been a beautiful couple with Arthur. Seeing that she had made it to the end Jane gripped her bouquet tight and stepped into the church. Standing there looking down the aisle at John she saw her future. The bridal march began. Oh how she wished she had someone to give her away. Jane had a brief flicker of herself standing in a church looking down the aisle to a colored man, her father holding her arm. She felt her knees weaken and steeled her breath. 

Worry crossed John’s face. He wanted to call to her, go to her. He knew she had not been fully honest about how hurt she was to not remember anything about her family and have them here. Was she changing her mind. His mouth opened and she stepped forward. He let out the breath he had been holding suddenly knowing it was going to be okay. As she met him at the altar John took her hand giving it a small squeeze.

The Vicar began, “dearly beloved, we are gathered here in the sight of God and in the face of these people, to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony. Which is an honourable estate, instituted of God himself, signifying unto us the mystical union that is betwixt Christ and his Church. Which holy estate Christ adorned and beautified with his presence, and first miracle that he wrought, in Cana of Galilee, and is commended in Holy Writ to be honourable among all men, and therefore is not by any to be enterprised, nor taken in hand, unadvisedly, lightly, or wantonly, but reverently, discreetly, soberly, and in the fear of God, duly considering the causes for which matrimony was ordained,” he breathed.

Jane barely listened to what the vicar said after this. Not because he had bored her but rather she got caught up gazing at John. More importantly at John’s face. His face was grinning like the milk that got the cream. Wider than she ever had seen it. His brown eyes sparkled so brightly gold flickered in them. In his eyes she could see. Jane was brought from her thoughts by the vicar placing a hand on her shoulder.

“I require and charge you both, as ye will answer at the dreadful day of judgement when the secrets of all hearts shall be disclosed, that if either of you know any impediment, why ye may not be lawfully joined together in matrimony, ye do now confess it. For be ye well assured, that so many as are coupled together otherwise than God’s word doth allow are not joined together by God; neither is their matrimony lawful. John, wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife, to live together according to God’s law in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honour and keep her, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?

John’s eyes met Janes, “I will,” he proclaimed. Everything in him wanted to kiss her now. Wanted to hold her as the vicar talked. Wanted this to be over, to be her husband. 

The Vicar turned his attention to Jane, “Jane, wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love, honour, and keep him, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?

Her stomach somersaulted hearing the words he said. “I will,” she beamed. 

The Vicar joined John and Jane by their right hands, “I, John Smith, take thee, Jane Doe, to my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse: for richer, for poorer; in sickness and in health; to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God’s holy law; and thereto I give thee my troth.  
She did not want to let his hand go even as John allowed it to drop. The Vicar placed John’s hand in hers this time, “I, Jane Doe, take thee, John Smith, to my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse: for richer, for poorer; in sickness and in health; to love, cherish, and to obey, till death us do part, according to God’s holy ordinance; and thereto I give thee my troth.

John gave her hand a gentle squeeze again letting go and reaching back from Rocastle for her ring. He placed the ring on the book the Vicar was reading from, “Bless, O Lord, this ring, and grant that he who gives it and she who shall wear it may remain faithful to each other, and abide in thy peace and favour, and live together in love until their lives’ end. Through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.”

She watched as the ring was handed back to John, smile wide on his face. John took her left hand in his gently sliding a simple gold band upon her finger, “with this ring I thee wed; with my body I thee honour; and all my worldly goods with thee I share: in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.” She felt an odd sense that he got the words wrong, that he should be saying biodamp but the band looked the same. She shook the thought. 

Joan handed Jane back her glove which she quickly slid on and then the bouquet. The Vicar motioned for them to knee. He placed his hands above them, “O eternal God, Creator and Preserver of all mankind, giver of all spiritual grace, the author of everlasting life: send thy blessing upon these thy servants, this man and this woman, whom we bless in thy name; that, living faithfully together, they may surely perform and keep the vow and covenant betwixt them made, whereof this ring given and received is a token and pledge; and may ever remain in perfect love and peace together, and live according to thy laws; through Jesus Christ our Lord.”

“Amen,” Jane, John, Joan and Rocastle all said jointly before standing.

Joining John and Jane’s right hands again the Vicar smiled at them both, “Those whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder. Forasmuch as John and JoanN have consented together in holy wedlock, and have witnessed the same before God and this company, and thereto have given and pledged their troth either to other, and have declared the same by giving and receiving of a ring, and by joining of hands; I pronounce that they be man and wife together, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen. God the Father, God the Son, God the Holy Ghost, bless, preserve, and keep you; the Lord mercifully with his favour look upon you; and so fill you with all spiritual benediction and grace, that ye may so live together in this life, that in the world to come ye may have life everlasting.

“Amen,” the four of them once again said in unison.

The Vicar nodded in agreement, “let us pray,” he began, “Lord, have mercy upon us.”

“Christ have mercy upon us,” the four stated.

“Lord, have mercy upon us,” the Vicar repeated.

Jane felt like she was in a trance. She was married. She had married John Smith. She was Mrs. Smith. Oh how amazing she felt. It took everything in her to not give up right there and finish out the wedding. Oh, she wanted to kiss him, to hug him, to hold him. Him, her husband. This all sort of seemed drawn out and familiar at the same time. But Jane could not put her finger on it. It was almost as if she had done this before. Had she been married? Was it just the reading over what they needed to say that made it so natural? 

John’s eyes were trained on Jane as if he could tell something was wrong. The look on her face was no less happy but her eyes, now her eyes were somewhere else. Her mind was in another world, clearly not there with him. “Let us pray,” the Vicar said once again bringing her from her spinning thoughts. “O Almighty Lord, and everlasting God, vouchsafe, we beseech thee, to direct, sanctify, and govern, both our hearts and bodies, in the ways of thy laws, and in the works of thy commandments; that through thy most mighty protection, both here and ever, we may be preserved in body and soul; through our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.”

“Amen,” they once again recited.

“The blessing of God Almighty, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, be amongst you and remain with you always,” finished the Vicar.

Jane looked at John one more amen and they were married, “Amen,” she said a little too enthusiastically. With a kiss, they sealed their match. John and Jane turned and signed their name to the register noting for the world to see that they were husband and wife before leaving the church. 

The bells rang as they exited and John pulled her into his arms again for another kiss. Joan came up behind them throwing rice as the clerk pulled out a camera to help mark the happy occasion. He motioned for them to move over to the garden, trees behind them. Joan was on Jane’s left as John had her arm hooked into his own, leaning in for a kiss, “we are married,” she chirped in his ear as their lips parted.

“You are my wife,” John beamed.   
“Stand still,” the clerk urged as the four of them waited for the photo to be taken. 

She did not want to let go of John, even as she hugged Joan she held tightly onto his hand, “thank you for everything,” she said again. “I cannot imagine how I would have made it to this day let alone here without you,” she proclaimed.

Joan nodded, “I am glad to have found a friend like you,” she stated.

“We should be off,” John whispered in her ear.

Jane looked at him, “off,” she questioned. 

“Yes to tea,” he reminded her. In her excitement she had forgot their planned brunch with Joan and Rocastle after the ceremony. Jane smiled, “yes Mr. Smith,” she grinned.

“Then let us go Mrs. Smith,” he beamed back at her.


	11. Chapter 11

“If you could close your eyes Mrs. Smith,” John instructed.

Jane felt her stomach flip, “why,” she begged as he placed himself between her and the door. She wanted to wrap her arms around his neck, kiss him and never let him go. But they needed to be on the other side of the door to get away with that.

“Because you are now my wife and I want to carry you over the threshold to our home,” he beamed.

“I have seen it already John,” she joked. 

That woman, she could never do as he asked and it drove him mad. “Please,” he practically begged. 

“Oh all right,” she huffed closing her eyes. She felt John’s arms around her, “please try not to drop me,” she noted.

The door hit the wall as he let if fly open bending to gather her legs, “you are light as a feather,” he strained making her believe him even less that she had to start with. “You are welcome to open your eyes,” he instructed. 

She did as asked as stepped through the door to their tiny home, “I know it is not much,” he began apologizing kicking the door shut behind him, “we can look at moving off campus into a little cottage next term or even to another school in the fall,” he added.

“John this is fine,” she promised without even looking at his study. Her eyes were only on him. 

His gaze met hers as he set her down. Jane’s arms hooked around his neck as his hands lingered on her waist pulling her closer. “I love you,” he dared pressing his lips to hers. 

Her hand toyed with the hair on the back of his neck as their mouths widened, lips merging and encapsulating one another before pulling back for breath. She had this odd urge to scream detox as she caught her breath but could not fathom why. That is when she noticed the bed. “Oh, John,” she realized seeing a double bed where the twin had been.

“I had it put in yesterday. Only the best for my Jane,” he grinned.

Suddenly her self conscious won out and she wrapped her arms around her body. Jane was going to sleep in that bed with her husband tonight. Tonight she and John would. “Um,” Jane trailed off sitting down.

“What is it,” he worried noticing her change of demenior. 

Her eyes were still on the bed, “nothing,” she lied. She could barely form the thoughts in her head how could she form them for John. She remembered none of her life. What if she was already married? What if this was not her first time. Or if it was. “Oh God,” she sighed.

She felt his tender fingers on her face, lifting her chin to his, “we do not have to do anything you do not want to,” John promised. 

Love. True love. That’s all that filled her mind. Only John would care more about not wanting to rush her than to seal his marriage with consummation. “John,” she began not wanting to meet his eyes, “what if I have ahem with someone else before?

“I married you because I love you for who you are today, not what your past is. You pledged to forsake all others today which is good enough for me,” he smiled pressing a kiss to her hand. 

Jane leaned forward, her lips melting into his. “You are too good to me,” she sighed into his mouth. His body pressed against her, his hands at the small of her back pressing into her, against her, melting into her. Jane’s hands wrapped around his neck urging him on. She wanted this, he wanted this, and now they were married with nothing preventing them from doing this.

“John,” she panted.

“Mmm,” he hummed allowing his lips to drift from hers. His eyes were hooded in desire. 

“Do you have the bag I left with you yesterday,” she questioned allowing her hand to rest on his chest.

“I left it in the bathroom,” he answered allowing her to guide him back to a sitting position. He reached up and tugged on his ear as his gaze moved from her to the bed.

She stilled meeting his eyes, “should I, should we,” she trailed off stealing her eyes on the bed. He had brought her back her after all.

Swallowing hard he nodded, “do you want to ready in the bathroom? I can in here,” he suggested.

“Yes,” she blushed standing and making her way there. Closing the door behind her Jane found the bag she had packed with the nightgown to wear her first night as a wife. She opened the bag and reached up to undo her dress. “No,” Jane gasped realizing that Joan had to help her in due to all the buttons. Turning she knocked on the door, “um, John, are you decent,” she questioned hovering her hand over the doorknob. 

She could hear him clear his throat, “yes,” he squeaked as she opened the door. He was standing there in his white shirt with his suspenders down much like the first memory she had of him. “Is something wrong,” he queried.

Jane bit her lip refusing to look at his face knowing what she had to ask, “I appear to need assistance. Joan helped me with the buttons this morning. If you could help me undo them,” she explained flinching at the request she was making. 

Blush crept up his cheeks, “erm, yes, I can,” he said walking over to her. Jane swallowed turning her back to him. She could feel his body pressed close to hers, his hands brushing the back of her neck as he began to finger her buttons undoing them. The warmness of John’s breath tickled her exposed flesh which he was creating more of as his fingertips ghosted her back moving down along the buttons. Her breaths came slow and deep desire rising from her belly. She wanted him, his close proximity was driving her mad. His hands stilled by her lower back, “I believe I got them all,” John said interrupting her thoughts.

Jumping at his voice she smiled and turned, “thank you,” she said moving back into the ensuite. Closing the door once again Jane slipped out of the dress allowing it to briefly fall to the floor before picking it up. She slipped the nightgown over her head. The white dress rested at her shoulders, flowing down until it met her ankles. Jane reached up removing the pins from her hair allowing her curls to fall amongst her shoulders. Glancing at herself in the mirror Jane felt she no longer looked like herself and in other ways, her wavy hair down made her feel more like herself than any other time. Approaching the door she knocked again, “are you decent,” she worried.

“Yes,” John confirmed. When she opened the door John was standing there a pair of blue striped pajamas. Jane walked out draping the wedding dress over the couch so it did not become ruined. She paused looking at John noticing his gaze sweep across her body. “You look,” he trailed off, “lovely,” he clarified finding the word he had been searching for. 

“Thank you,” she blushed. 

“Do you want to,” his eyes glanced to the bed, “situate yourself,” he offered. Nodding Jane walked over to the bed and pulled up the covered, getting in. She pulled the blankets around her, covering herself. She could feel her heart beating through her chest. Surely he could hear it too. Jane licked her lips as he began to move the covers on his side of the bed joining her. She turned to watch him, see him, “is this okay,” he worried.

“Yes,” she swallowed. He was so close she could feel the warmth from his body pressing close to her. “John,” she breathed. His gaze was overwhelming, it felt like it penetrated her soul, “I would not rather be with anyone but you,” she proclaimed. 

John smiled unsure what to say. He wasn’t sure who moved first, yet he was sure it was him. His bride was before him, waiting for him. So calm, innocent and waiting for him. He had tried not to think of this moment in fear that something would happen to take Jane away. Life always had a habit of taking those he loved from him. But now the time had come and they were about to be together, they were married before the eyes of God. Nothing could put that asunder. He shifted moving closer and then above her, “is this okay,” he questioned. 

Nodding she bit her lip unsure what else to do. His hands stilled on her quivering body, eyes locked with hers. Swallowing Jane’s hand reached up and curled around his neck. She felt his hand move up her thigh, pushing her dressing gown aside before he shifted once again and she could feel his hardness against her, “are you sure,” he worried.

“Yes,” she panted shifting beneath him.

John reached down grabbing his hardness. Her eyes closed and her body grimaced as he entered her, “is that,” he breathed. Jane opened her eyes, tears prickling from the slight pain she had felt. 

“It is okay,” she promised.

Gently he began moving back and forth, his eyes widened at the feel of her around him. Mesmerized by her body, by his wife. John began to pant in conjunction with his thrusts as they became faster. He paused noticing the tears falling down her face, “is this, are you, okay,” he worried. Her hands entangled with his hair as she nodded urging him on. John thrust again, picking up pace until he grunted signaling his finish. It was not what Jane thought it would be. She was not sure why but she felt that he could do better, that she could do better, that this could be better. 

He pressed close against, laying a kiss to her forehead. Shifting he pulled out of her, suddenly feeling lost without her around him. John pulled her close, all that she contained, all that she meant, she could undo him with one smile. Jane turned curling into him, “I love you,” she declared meeting their lips again before pulling back and resting on the pillow beside him. 

John reached over, tucking a curl behind her ear, “I love you Mrs. Smith,” he grinned.

Scooting closer she relaxed her head against his chest bringing her hand up to play with the tufts of hair on his chest. She allowed her hand to trace the lines of his chest as her eyes batted closed, his heartbeat drumming her to sleep.


	12. Chapter 12

Jane woke in her husband’s arms. Smiling she turned to see him, “good morning Mr. Smith,” she grinned pressing a kiss to his lips.

“Morning Mrs. Smith,” John beamed.

Her hand came up caressing the back of his head, “was last night okay,” she worried.

“It was great,” he proclaimed seeing the fear in her eyes, “you were lovely.”

Leaning in Jane pressed her lips to John’s as his hand wrapped around her pulling her closer. Her body was already responding to him as her breathing began to deepen. The knock on their door interrupted them. “Morning Mr. Smith,” Martha paused seeing the two of them. He opened his mouth about to lash out once again regarding her inability to knock, “I am sorry,” she said looking from the wedding dress to the two of them in bed.

Seeing the panic in her eyes Jane sat up, “it is okay,” she dismissed placing a hand on John’s arm. She reached for his robe and wrapped it around her standing up from the bed. “Thank you Martha,” she said going over to her.

“I’ll be leaving,” she stuttered closing the door quickly behind her.

John stood from the bed, “she has to knock before she enters,” he snapped.

Walking over to him Jane wrapped her arms around his neck, “I know love. I’ll talk to her,” she promised knowing that she would be less harsh than John would. “What would you like for breakfast,” she questioned seeing the daily offerings.

“Anything but burnt toast,” he joked with a sense of seriousness. He sat, pulling her into his lap and met her lips again. Jane was going to fit quite comfortably into this life with him.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Excitement bounced within her as she gathered the supplies for the planned picnic. She had wanted to surprise John the way he always seemed to go out of his way for her and Jane had thought a picnic would be just the thing. She gathered a blanket, placing it atop the carefully packed food and hooked her arm in the basket. In the two weeks that they had been married John had gone out of his way every day to make her feel special. Their alone time had improved a bit too as he overcame nerves and allowed his hands to wander to magical places when they were joined. “Advanced with little impediment. The French were all but spent, with only two battalions of the old guard remaining. A final reserve force was charged with protecting Napoleon, but by evening, the advance of the Allied troops had forced them to retreat,” he read as the bell rang.

Feeling eyes on him he dismissed his group and made his way to his wife, “Mrs. Smith,” he greeted.

“Mr. Smith,” she beamed pressing a chaste kiss to his lips after ensuring there was no one paying attention to them. 

“What is this,” he questioned noticing her the basket in her arm.

Licking her lips she smiled, “I thought we could go for a picnic,” suggested Jane.

“I do quite like picnics,” he smiled holding his arm out for her to take.

Pausing she met his eyes, “I think you are forgetting something John,” she giggled looking up at the hat then at the cape he was still wearing.

“Right,” he quickly caught on removing the both and slipping them onto his desk before taking her arm and leading her down the stairs. 

“When was Waterloo,” Jane questioned having been intrigued by the bit of his lecture.

John met her eyes, “how long were you standing there,” he wondered.

“Not long,” she dismissed.

“The Battle of Waterloo occured the 18 of June 1815. Napoleon hoped to counter the massing army prior to them taking France,” he explained as Jane guided him towards the orchard on the other side of the school. 

He prattled on about the battle as they came to a quiet little meadow. Pausing Jane set the basket down handing John the blanket to spread out for them both. Sitting down John gathered her in his arms as he took a salad sandwich to much on and handed her one. “I could stay here forever,” she declared taking in the trees and the tiny birds flitting about.

“We could if you wanted,” John promised. “Jane I would go anywhere you wanted to,” he proclaimed, “if you wanted us to move I would find another position. If you wanted to travel during the summer and come back here in the fall I would do that too.”

Munching her sandwich, Jane thought about his suggestion. “I would love to see where you grew up, meet your friends,” she agreed.

“I could give you a proper honeymoon,” he grinned pressing a kiss to her mouth. Shifting he knocked her off balance and pressed her into the blanket and grass beneath them, “we could become acquainted in several places,” his eyebrow arched. 

Jane could not believe how forward he was being, “John, I think this warm weather is getting to you,” she giggled. 

He paused looming over her, “it is you my dear,” he stated matter of fact. 

“Well then I should not visit you so often,” she warned. Jane could feel his heart beating beneath her hand. 

“You drive me mad,” he purred.

She believed him and she also worried the madness was from his lack of sleep, “the mad man with a box yeah,” she questioned reminded of the nightmare he had mentioned.

“You yourself mentioned I only have one heart,” he noted.

Her other hand came up to find a different spot on his chest, “yes just one,” she confirmed once again like she had that night he woke screaming. 

He pushed into her pressing his lips amongst hers as his hand came up over her breast, “I could take you right here,” he growled.

“John someone could see us,” she protested as she wrapped her arms around his neck leaning in for another kiss. Pulling back she could see the displeasure on her husband’s face, “we should be getting back,” she sighed. “I cannot have you late for your next class. They will ban wives from coming and I cannot have that. They will never let me free of the library again,” she predicted.

His face moved in for another kiss, “then I would have to break in and free you from CAL,” he laughed.

Jane looked at him oddly, “who is CAL,” she questioned.

John got that far off look that sometimes plagued him when he had nightmares or said something he did not understand, “someone I met once,” he shrugged, “no, that is not right,” he rejected sitting up. 

Sitting up she took his hand, “John are you sure you are feeling okay,” she worried.

“Yes,” he promised. “I think you were right and we should head back to the building,” he said changing the subject as he stood and helped his wife up. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Returning to their room Jane set the basket back in there for Martha to take when she was straightening up later. She was about to leave when a glint of silver caught her attention. Moving to the fire mantle she picked up an oddly engraved fob watch. Her thumb ran over it. Voices clouded her head, “Time Lord. Hide yourself,” it boomed in her brain, “the secret lies within. I'm trapped. I'm kept inside the cogs. In the dark, waiting. Always waiting. Power of a Time Lord,” a familiar voice, one similar to John’s explained. 

“Mrs. Smith,” Martha startled seeing Jane holding the watch. 

Quickly Jane closed the watch, “sorry,” she said almost coming to.

“Are you all right,” she questioned. 

Jane nodded, “Yes, fine,” she dismissed. 

“Right then,” Martha paused watching her, “I’ll just tidy things.” 

“Okay,” Jane said placing the watch back on the mantle. Her vision clouded seeing Martha dressed like a soldier working with what appeared to be an army. She was in trousers. 

Martha came up beside her, “you're really not looking yourself, ma’am. Anything bothering you?”

Shaking her head she came back to reality, “no, thank you, no,” she trailed off. “I should be getting back to the library, thank you Martha,” she mindlessly said leaving the room.

As soon as she left Martha made it to the watch. It was closed and seemed to be fine. If she thought she could get away with keeping it she would but a maid would never have a watch that belonged to her master. Rolling her eyes Martha finished tidying the room. Only a few more weeks and Jane would be left with a broken heart when she and the Doctor began traveling again.


	13. Chapter 13

“Donna,” John screamed reaching his hand out, “you’ve got to jump,” he yelped.

Startling up in the bed Jane wrapped her arms around him, “John love, you are dreaming,” she soothed trying to wake him up.

“Trust me,” he pled.”

Jane’s hand caressed his face, “John, please wake up. It’s a nightmare,” she begged. His eyes sprung, open seeing her there he blinked. “Just a dream,” she assured him.

He clung to her, pulling himself into her chest as his breathing leveled out. Jane soothed him by threading her fingers through his hair. Something she quickly had learned calmed him. “I was dreaming about you,” he finally spoke.

“Me? I am right here John, safe and sound,” she promised.

Looking up John met her eyes, “I was in the box. There was a Santa after you. It was trying to kill you. You had to jump to me and you didn’t trust me,” he explained tears forming in his eyes.

“Hey,” she began pressing a kiss to his forehead, “I trust you completely,” Jane told him as he closed his eyes in her chest. She took a deep breath. His dreams had been becoming more frequent in the past week and he was becoming more distressed by each one. She relaxed against the bed allowing his head to rest in her lap, his arm snaked around her waist, keeping her close to him like some sort of safety net. She had heard him speak of many names now, female and male but when he awoke he only knew them as dreams. 

Soft snoring began to drift up from him and Jane smiled continuing to play with his hair as voices walked by their corridor. She knew that the outside world was awaking but John had been plagued by these dreams so she allowed him to sleep longer. A knock on the door brought Jane from her thoughts. Carefully she slid from beneath his head and slipped on his bathrobe, “come in,” she whispered.

Martha entered carrying a breakfast tray. She paused seeing Jane not fully dressed, “pardon me, Mrs. Smith. You're not dressed yet. I can come back later,” she notes.

“No, it's all right, put it down. Just be quiet,” she whispered looking over at John. His face was still relaxed as if he was sleeping still. “I was er, sorry. John has been having nightmares again,” she explained as Martha put the tray down on a table by the leather couch.

Her eyes flicked from Jane to John, “what about, ma’am?”

“He keeps dreaming he is some daredevil, a madman. Last night he dreamt I was his companion. Every night, a different companion. They are becoming more frequent,” she sighed unsure why she felt so comfortable to tell Martha everything so freely. 

Martha tidied a few books, “well it can't be true because there's no such thing,” she dismissed.

“The watch is,” John croaked from the bed beginning to sit up, dark circles obvious under his eyes.

“You should be sleeping,” Jane instructed.

He shrugged her statement off standing and noticing she was wearing his housecoat as he crooked an eye walking over and holding onto the silver pocket watch Jane had not dared touch since that odd day after their picnic.”I dreamed I became human,” he said.

“Sir, you are human,” Martha reminded him and Jane caught something that she almost thought to be fear flash before Martha’s face.

Coming from his thoughts John shook his head, “I know. I could never have the adventures of this madman,” he dismissed sitting down.

“Thank you Martha,” Jane said signalling that she should go.

“Good day Mr. Smith, Mrs. Smith,” she said closing the door behind her. Martha worried if his dreams would spark him to remember too soon and open the watch defeating the purpose of them coming to 1913. 

“Maybe you should let someone know you are ill,” Jane suggested.

John met her eyes, “I am only tired my love,” he declared taking a piece of toast and smothering it with marmalade. He took her hand and pressed a kiss to it, “if I was ill I would stay home and have you tend to me,” he promised.

Bringing their interlocked hands to her lips Jane pressed a kiss to his hand, “you better have or I would have to smack you,” she giggled.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jane set her book down eyeing John again. She sighed deeply hoping he would hear her and out the paper down. When he didn't she opted for a more direct approach. “John, do you think we could walk into town,” she inquired

“Whatever would we do that for dear,” he questioned without removing the paper from his face.

She worried her lip, “I thought it would be fun. Maybe we could go stargazing tonight like you have promised. It is no longer improper to keep me out past dark,” she hinted.

John let the paper dip to the table, “I will need to shave,” he noted folding the paper. 

A smile spread across her face as she stood and pressed a kiss to his forehead, “I can help with that,” she hoped.

“You can,” John laughed. 

Jane stood walking over to where his shaving cream and cut throat razor sat, “I think it is entirely too sexy when you shave. If you do it we shall never leave this room,” she breathed. 

Unsure John watched her, “have you done this before?”

“Not that I remember,” she shrugged, “now lean back,” demanded Jane. 

Grinning he leaned his head back allowing her to take the brush and spread shaving cream onto his face a bit more rough than he would have done it himself. Jane placed her left hand on John’s forehead shifting it up as she brought her right hand clasping the razor up. Beginning on his upper cheek she began stroking quickly down. Her eyes were set monitoring every flick of her wrist, every movement of his breath. Once she finished one cheek, Jane switched sides shaving his right cheek. “You are not half bad at this,” John complemented when she has stepped back after finishing his other cheek. 

“This next bit might be a bit tricky. If I may, um, I need to sit on your lap,” she explained.

John sat up straighter, “very well,” he agreed. Looking at him and the angle she needed Jane thought about which position would give her the best chance of not nicking him. Tediously she approached his lap practically kneeling over it, “Jane,” he gasped feeling her presence upon him.

“Shh,” she hushed bringing his neck up and her hand to it. Carefully Jane brought the razor across it. She watched as John wanted to swallow until after she had passed. Carefully she brought his face down and worked on his chin before finishing with his upper lip. Proud of her work Jane sealed he job with a kid to his soft lightly covered in shaving cream lips, “done,” she promised. 

Setting the razor on the table John's hands came up to rest on her waist, “you are incredibly beautiful when you set your mind to something,” he dared pulling her into another kiss. 

Her arms wrapped around his neck as John tugged on her nighty. She could feel his hardness below her. She gave an experimental wiggle which made his eyes go mad and cock wildly twitch. He fumbled trying to free himself from his pajamas desperately wanting to be inside her again. Jane gasped, “John,” as she lowered and he entered into her. They had done this quite frequently since they wed but Jane always felt like she was the luckiest girl in the world when he was inside her.

They were moving in unison now. Their mouths meeting each other between soft moans and heavy breathing. He was all she ever wanted and more. In their short time together Jane had come to know that John was almost done when his breathing became strangled. “I love you,” he mumbled into her hair like he had to tell her a thousand times to make her believe it. She felt his warmth fill her as he grunted in release the two sinking closer after, tired from the spent energy their uniting completely required. 

Coming back to herself Jane pressed a kiss to his lips before freeing herself of him and allowing John to put his parts away. Fixing his pants as he stood John went to the sink to splash his face with water before towel drying it. “Not bad,” he said admiring the work Jane had completed. “Where in town do you want to go,” he queried seeing her happily spread out on the bed and thought to himself that maybe town would have to wait another hour or two.


	14. Chapter 14

Relaxing into John’s arm, Jane listened to him humming a ragtime tune as they walked to the village. Passing a board Jane paused, “have you seen this, John? The annual dance at the village hall tomorrow. Do you think you'll go?”

He stilled beside her, “I hadn't thought about it,” he said watching her face. 

‘’I remember if I’ve been to a dance,” she tried to recall. 

He loomed closer to her, “Mrs. Smith, might I invite you to the village dance this evening,” he questioned.

She turned squealing in delight, “oh yes,” Jane grinned as he wrapped an arm around her leading her further into town. 

“John,” she began, “I saw Hutchinson bullying Latimer again. Do you really think that those boys can ever learn anything training for war? What is the point,” she queried. 

He watched two workmen attempt to hoist a piano, “mankind doesn't need warfare and bloodshed to prove itself. Everyday life can provide honour and valour, and let's hope that from now on this, this country can find its heroes in smaller places,” he trailed off eyeing the men, “in the most,” he continued slowly noticing a woman pushing a pram. Stilling John reached over taking a cricket ball from a boy beside him and threw it. Causing metal poles to fall they hit a plank that set off on a brick and knocked a milk churn in front of the pram stilling it. As if on cue the piano rope broke causing it to crash back to the Earth, “ordinary of, of deeds,” he finished his sentance. Jane gawked at him in awe, “lucky,” he dismissed. 

“That was luck? You extraordinary man,” she cheered pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I think you might have just earned a second pint tonight,” she laughed.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Coming back from the pub Jane could feel the early spring chill reach her bones. She tried not to chatter as she and John took it upon themselves to lay in the field, “they are beautiful,” she gasped looking up at them. 

One of John’s arms was outstretched with his finger pointing to a light, “that is regulus,” he explained. Moving his arm down and to the right, “that one there is sirus,” he pointed out. 

“What about that one,” Jane questioned pointing to a more dull tinted star to the north east.

He squinted his eyes at it, “Mercury, no, Mars,” he proclaimed. 

“Sometimes I wish I had half the knowledge in that head of yours,” she joked scooting closer in the cold. His mind was clearly somewhere else taking in the stars. Jane noticed a green light beaming down to the right of her, “John, did you see that. There is something in the woods, look at the light,” she panicked pulling him up.

John searched the woods not seeing the light she just had as a golden light crossed the sky, “nothing wrong. That beauty is a meteorite. Just rocks falling to the ground,” he promised.

“It came down over there,” she urged.

“No, no, no. They always look close when they are actually miles off. Nothing left but a cinder now,” he said noticing her shaking, “far too cold to be laying around in the dark, we should head back to the school,” he noted standing and extending a hand for Jane.

Carefully he took it as she wrapped her arms in his watching where she had seen the light, “are you sure it is miles off,” she worried.

“Yes my dear,” he promised pressing a kiss to her forehead as they walked, “miles away,” he assured her. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Standing in the bathroom Jane was not sure why she was so full of butterflies for a dance, “John,” she questioned. When she walked from the bathroom he was straightening his bowtie, “can you hook this button,” she hoped.

His smile gave away the answer before his mouth did, “yes,” he chirped rushing to his wife and allowing his fingers to caress her sooth flesh as he hooked her button. “There,” he said pressing a kiss to her neck where her hair had been pulled up, leaving it exposed. 

Turning she looked at him smoothing it out, “you look wonderful,” he exhaled.

She took him in, standing there with his tweed suit and bowtie, “you clean up well Mr. Smith,” she giggled allowing him to pull her into his arms and press delicate kisses down her neck. “You better warn me,” her voice dipped, “as to whether we will be making the dance tonight,” Jane pured allowing his hands to run along her body.

“I'm not certain,” he dared. 

Pressing a kiss to her lips she met his gaze, “there's a surprise. Is there anything you're certain about?”

“Yes. You,” he affirmed taking her hands in his and looking at the rings upon her finger. 

“They've found us,” Martha boomed bursting into their study.

John’s eyes narrowed, “Martha, I've warned you,” he began.

“This is ridiculous,” Jane sighed. Every time she tried to give Martha an inch and make way for her with John she went and did something like this. 

“They've found us, and I've seen them. They look like people, like us, like normal. I'm sorry, but you've got to open the watch. Where is it,” she demanded running over to the mantlepiece. Where had it gone? It had to be there. She turned facing the startled faces of the Doctor and Jane, “Oh, my God. Where's it gone? Where's the watch?”

His body stiffened, “what are you talking about,” he questioned.

“You had a watch. A fob watch. Right there,” she pushed.

John shook his head, “did I? I don't remember,” he dismissed.

Oh, he was bloody useless as a human Martha thought as she remembered seeing Jane holding the watch one day. “You know it was there I saw you with it,” she accused hoping Jane would know where it went. 

“I can't see what concern it is of yours,” she rebuked. How dare the maid accuse her of doing something with her husband’s watch! What business was it what she did with her and John’s things.

Martha’s face grimaced in frustration, “but we need it. Oh, my God, Doctor, we're hiding from aliens, and they've got Jenny and they've possessed her or copied her or something, and you've got to tell me, where's the watch?”

His eyes widened before he nodded knowingly, “oh, I see. Cultural differences,” he noted meeting Jane’s gaze. “It must be so confusing for you. Martha, the dreams I have been having is what we call a story,” he explained. 

“Oh you complete. This is not you. This is nineteen thirteen,” she spat.

His arms came up as he put himself between Martha and Jane, “good,” he nodded, “this is nineteen thirteen.”

She didn’t have time for this, “I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, but I've got to snap you out of this,” she stated hauling her hand back and slapping the Doctor.

“Martha,” Jane gasped loudly. 

Not having time for games Martha took the Doctor’s hand, “wake up! You're coming back to the Tardis with me,” she demanded.

“How dare, how dare you. I'm not going anywhere with an insane servant,” he yelped using his strength to get the upper hand and grabbed her shoulder pushing her from the room, “Martha, you are dismissed. You will leave these premises immediately. Now get out,” he yelled closing her on the other side of the door. 

Martha knew she had to find a way to get the Doctor to remember. If she couldn’t find the watch she would have to find something else to spark his memory. 

“The nerve of it. The absolute cheek. You think I'm a fantasist? What about her,” he simmered coming to Jane’s side. “Are you alright love,” he hoped.

Jane nodded, “yeah,” she said having grabbed her purse, “funny thing is John, you did have a fob watch, right there. Don't you remember?”

His eyes met hers, “does it matter?”

Worrying her lip she decided maybe it was not the most important thing. She closed the purse she had be beginning to open. If he was not worried about it she would not either. One thing was for sure Martha was mad and convinced that John was not himself. What would she do in order to make it real?


	15. Chapter 15

The words the Martha had said rang around Jane’s head. Somewhere in the back of her head there was a tiny part of her that thought it could maybe be true, that possibly it was familiar. “You are awfully quiet tonight Mrs. Smith,” John said bringing her from her thoughts.

“Sorry,” she dismissed the nagging thought at the back of her mind, “what were you saying love,” she queried.

John place his left hand on their entwined arms, “Nothing, erm, I was thinking maybe we should go away next weekend,” he repeated.

“You’re a dangerous man, Martha trying to take you away claiming she’s your companion, now you want to whisk me away” she joked seeing the look of fear on his face. Jane leaned up and pressing a kiss to his cheek before they got closer to the town hall. 

They approached the steps, “spare a penny for the veterans of the Crimea, sir,” a man asked. 

John smiled reaching into his pocket, “yes, of course. There you are,” he said escorting Jane in.

He helped her dislodge her coat and hung it as well as his up before walking into the dance hall. “Shall we find a seat,” she asked.

John looked around at all the people of the town, unsure why he suddenly feared dancing with his wife in public. “Ladies and gentlemen. Please take your partners for a waltz,” the Chamber called.

Turning to Jane he smiled, “shall we,” he nodded to the dance floor. With a nod John led Jane to the dance floor. He took her like they had danced that night in Joan's house, like they had danced several times in their own small abode since being married. The music began as John’s hand rested on her lower back. Giving his arm a gentle squeeze Jane could feel blush rising in her cheeks. “You have improved,” John grinned.

He was grinning from ear to ear almost laughing he was so happy. “Oh, I surprise myself, must be that teacher I’ve secretly been taking lessons from,” she laughed.

His face stilled for a moment before realizing that his wife was referring to him, “he must be a fine dancer,” John complemented himself just as he bumped them into another couple. “Sorry,” he apologized. 

As the song came to an end Jane gave his arm another squeeze, “that was, better than expected,” she smiled. 

“Shall I fetch us refreshments,” he wondered aloud.

“I’ll find us a seat,” she acknowledged wandering off to a table. John looked completely handsome tonight. She looked up at the movement of the table seeing Martha sit exasperated before her, “please, don't. Not again,” she pled.

Her face was stern but not unkind. She really did not want to ruin the woman’s life but the trouble is it had already been ruined, “he's different from any other man you've ever met, right,” she pushed.

She looked over at him fetching their drinks, “yes,” she replied.

“And sometimes he says these strange things, like people and places you've never heard of, yeah? But it's deeper than that. Sometimes when you look in his eyes you know, you just know that there's something else in there. Something hidden. Right behind the eyes, something hidden away in the dark,” Martha tried.

So many times Jane had that very thought. It made John magical, mystical, especially hers. And then there was the watch she had found which only complicated the situation. “I don't know what you mean,” she lied.

“Yes, you do. I don't mean to be rude, but the awful thing is it doesn't even matter what you think. But you're nice. And you're lucky. And I just wanted to say sorry for what I'm about to do,” she said plainly. 

Making his way through the crowd, John spotted Martha sitting at their table talking to Jane, “oh, now really, Martha. This is getting out of hand. I must insist that you leave,” he demanded.

She stood up pulling something silver and blue from her pocket and held it out for him. Jane found an odd part of herself recognizing it, “do you know what this is? Name it. Go on, name it,” she proded. 

His eyes narrowed on it. The name was lost to him. He surely had never seen anything like it before. Yet, it seemed like it was calling to him, “sonic screwdriver,” Jane gasped. Martha and John’s eyes shot to her. Shaking her head Jane lost the barely there memory, “John, what is that silly thing? John,” she worried.

Carefully John reached out taking the sonic screwdriver from Martha. Turning it in his hands he tried to place where he knew it from, why it felt right in his hands, “you're not John Smith. You're called the Doctor. The man in your journal, he's real. He's you,” she explained. 

Just then a man walked into the room shoving people aside and commanding the attention of everyone, “there will be silence! All of you,” he demanded as scarecrows surrounded him, “I said, silence!”

Mr. Chambers stepped forward, “Mr. Clarke, what's going on,” he hastily argued.

Pulling out a dark off looking gun he shot a green light shot from it dissolving Mr. Chambers. John jumped back in alarm as Jane stood moving to his side, “Mister Smith? Everything I told you, just forget it! Don't say anything,” Martha pled. 

“We asked for silence! Now then, we have a few questions for Mister Smith,” Baines yelled. 

Jane could feel his heart pounding standing beside him. She eyed Martha as she slowly turned to look at the men. A young girl holding onto a red balloon walked up to meet the men, “no, better than that. The teacher. He's the Doctor. I heard them talking,” she clued them in. 

A smirk spread across Baine’s face, “you took human form,” he accused.

John straightened, fear quelling within him. What were they all on about, “of course I'm human. I was born human, as were you, Baines. And Jenny, and you, Mister Clark. What is going on? This is madness,” he shouted praying they would understand. 

“Ooo, and a human brain, too. Simple, thick and dull,” Baines shot.

The housemaid looked disgusted, “but he's no good like this,” she growled. 

“We need a Time Lord,” Mr. Clark stated.

Baines stepped forward raising a gun, “easily done. Change back,” he threatened 

John shook in fear, “I don't know what you're talking about,” he spat.

“Change back,” he growled.

“I literally do not know,” John pleaded. 

Jenny grabbed Martha holding a gun to her head, “Get off me,” Martha yelped trying to push her off. 

“She's your friend, isn't she? Doesn't this scare you enough to change back,” she tried to goad John.

Martha felt properly worried for the first time in a long time. If he hadn't remembered with her urging and her life depended upon it now she might never see her family again, “I don't know what you mean!”

Jenny paused, “wait a minute. The maid told me about Smith and the Matron. That woman, there,” she motioned.

Martha closed her eyes momentarily angry that she had let someone in now to get more innocents hurt, “then let's have you,” Mr. Clark said grabbing Jane and putting a gun to her head. He took a deep sniff, “I smell time on you,” he accused, “this one is also a traveler. Martha looked over to Jane in Mr. Clark’s arms. She too traveled with the Doctor? What the hell was going on?

John’s eyes focused on her. They couldn’t hurt Jane, he couldn’t allow them to. 

Jane gulped feeling the gun against her head, what had he meant that he could smell time on her? “Have you enjoyed it, Doctor, being human? Has it taught you wonderful things? Are you better, richer, wiser? Then let's see you answer this. Which one of them do you want us to kill? Maid or matron? Your friend or your lover? Your choice,” Baines dared.

Jane felt her cheeks blush at the mention of their love. Trying not to focus on what was happening she clutched her purse close, “make your decision, Mister Smith,” Jenny dared.

He couldn't allow them to hurt Jane. Maybe if he pretend to be this Doctor he would be able to get her, to save her. “Perhaps if that human heart breaks, the Time Lord will emerge,” he tempted.

Clutching at her purse she felt the watch within holding it tightly trying not to cry. She felt it speak to her, speak through her, “time Lord,” it boomed. 

“It's him,” one shouted all of them taken aback by the same thing that Jane had heard. Martha grabbed Jenny’s gun and pulled her in front of her aiming the gun at Baines. “All right! One more move and I shoot,” she warned. 

“Oh, the maid is full of fire,” he admired.

She raised the gun at the ceiling, “and you can shut up,” she shouted firing it at the ceiling. 

Mr Clark tightened his grip on Jane, “careful, Son of Mine. This is all for you so that you can live forever. 

Baines raised his gun, “shoot you down,” he dared.

Martha tightened her grip, “try it. We'll die together,” she warned.

The smirk across Baine’s face started to grow again, “would you really pull the trigger? Looks too scared,” he commented.

“Scared and holding a gun's a good combination. Do you want to risk it,” she suggested. 

John had no choice but to watch in horror unable to do anything, unable to run away. The group lowered their guns. Feeling the arm around her disappear Jane rane to John’s side as he pulled her into a hug pressing a kiss to her hair. 

“Doctor, get everyone out. There's a door at the side. It's over there. Go on,” Martha ordered looking at them, “Do it, Mister Smith. I mean you,” she shot. 

His head moved from looking at Martha, Jane and the group. He wasn’t sure what to do. How to help. Jane gave his hand a squeeze pulling back, “do what she said. Everybody out, now. Don't argue,” Jane ordered moving towards the people trying to herd them out. “Mister Jackson. They're mad. That's all we need to know. Susan, Miss Cooper, outside, all of you,” she urged the worried faces out. 

“Move yourself, boy. Back to the school, quickly,” John urged taking his wife’s cue. He turned to Martha.  
“And you. Go on. Just shift,” she told him.

John paused looking lost at her, “what about you,” he worried.

“Mister Smith, I think you should escort your lady friend to safety, don't you,” she deadpanned. 

John ran over taking Jane’s elbow and moved her out of the building to where others were still standing. “Mr. Hicks warn the village get everyone out. He turned to Jane, “we must get back to the school, warn the headmaster.”

Martha wanted to mourn the loss of her friend, one of the few people who had been kind to her given the color of her skin, but right now she had to bring the Doctor back. Running from the building she saw the Doctor and Jane still there, “don’t just stand there, move! God, you’re rubbish as a human. Come on,” She hollered. 

John and Jane grabbed hands and began running after Martha. Both of them met each other’s eyes for a moment as if something was so right about running hand in hand. As if they had done it hundreds of times before.


	16. Chapter 16

Jane felt like she was oddly good at running even though she and John could not keep up with Martha. It was almost as if she had been practicing for this day. Coming onto the school grounds John closed the gates behind them and then ushered them into the building and locking the door behind them. Jane barely had a moment to catch her breath before John wordlessly grabbed a bell and began to ring it, “take arms, take arms,” he hollered.

 

“What are you doing?,” Martha squawked unable to fanthome what the Doctor was doing. 

He continued to ring the bell, “maybe one man can't fight them, but this school teaches us to stand together. Take arms! Take arms,” he said pacing. 

“You can't do that, she half ordered half pled. 

He paused, “you want me to fight, don't you? Take arms! Take arms,” he continued to call. 

A boy ran down, “I say sir, what's the matter,” he worried. 

“Enemy at the door, Hutchinson. Enemy at the door. Take arms,” he ordered as they vegan to hand out guns. 

Guns appeared practically out of thin air with bullets massing. Jane watched in disbelief as everything happened at full speed before her, “you can't do this, Doctor. Mister Smith,” she begged. 

Walking around John ordered them about, “maintain position over the stable yard. Faster now. That's it,” he urged.

“They're just boys. You can't ask them to fight. They don't stand a chance,” she pled for him to understand. 

John dismissed her idea, “they're cadets, Miss Jones. They are trained to defend the King and all his citizens and properties,” he corrected. 

Just then Rocastle came down the stairs. Jane had never seen him in a decent mood in a good day let alone the middle of the night. “What in thunder's name is this? Before I devise an excellent and endless series of punishments for each and every one of you, could someone explain very simply and immediately exactly what is going on,” he demanded. 

“Headmaster, I have to report the school is under attack,” he revealed. 

Rocastle's face stalled in disbelief, “Really? Is that so? Perhaps you and I should have a word in private,” he suggested.

“No, I promise you, sir. I was in the village with Mrs. Smith. It's Baines, sir. Jeremy Baines and Mister Clark from Oakham Farm. They've gone mad, sir. They've got guns. They've already murdered people in the village. I saw it happen,” he prayed for him to understand. 

“Mrs. Smith is that so,” he questioned. 

She felt everything screamed within her. Hope to get them out if there,”I’m afraid it's true, sir,” she replied. 

“Murder on our own soil,” he pushed. 

Jane nodded her head. Was it murder to make some vanish before their eyes in green light? “I saw it. Yes,” she admitted. 

“Perhaps you did well then, Mister Smith. What makes you think the danger's coming here,” Rocastle asked.

Jane saw the look on John’s face, “well, sir, they said,” he began. 

“Baines threatened Mister Smith, sir. Said he'd follow him. We don't know why,” she clarified taking John’s hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.

Rocastle looked Mr. Smith up and down as if deciding whether to believe them, “very well. You boys, remain on guard. Mister Snell, telephone for the police. Mister Philips, with me. We shall investigate,” he ordered. 

“No! But it's not safe out there,” she protested trying to protect them. Oh, why could they not see? THey would all wind up dead if they were not careful!

Turning to John Rocastle glared, “Mister Smith, it seems your favourite servant is giving me advice. You will control her, sir,” he demanded before leaving.

Unsure why Jane was filled with a sense of pride for Martha trying to fulfil her conscious. “I've got to find that watch,” Martha scoffed. Jane felt like she needed to go with her, especially since she had the blasted thing that Martha was looking for. 

She shrugged off her worry pressing a kiss to John’s cheek, “go find yourself a safe space,” he ordered and Jane han an urge to slap him. Hurrying after Martha she followed her to their study. Martha rampaged through the house searching for the watch. 

“I know it sounds mad, but when the Doctor became human, he took the alien part of himself and he stored it inside the watch. It's not really a watch, it just looks like a watch,” she prattled looking under covers, in closets, at papers.

Giving her purse a gentle squeeze Jane felt the presence like she had earlier, “hold me. Keep me safe. Keep me dark. Keep me closed. The time is not right. Not yet. Not while the Family is abroad. Danger,” screamed a voice in her head. 

Jane shook the voice from her head, “and alien means not from abroad, I take it,” she clarified.

“The man you call John Smith, he was born on another world,” Martha noted.

For some reason that felt right to Jane, “a different species,” she said as if almost recalling. 

“Yeah,” she acknowledged rifling through paperwork in his desk. 

Swallowing her heart. Martha and John had found her, they har arrived together and Martha had clearly been in love with John. “Then tell me. In this fairy tale, who are you,” she dared.

“Just a friend. I'm not. I mean, you haven't got a rival, as much as I might. Just his friend,” she stuttered continuing to search. She couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief flow over her even at the sadness exhibited in Martha’s eyes. “Don't worry. And more than that, I just don't follow him around. I'm training to be a doctor. Not an alien doctor, a proper doctor. A doctor of medicine,” she noted.

Something about her believed Martha’s claim but women in their time not even thinking about the color of her skin were not widespread, “well that certainly is nonsense. Women might train to be doctors, but hardly a skivvy and hardly one of your colour,” she dismissed. 

Standing Martha eyed her. “Oh, do you think? Bones of the hand. Carpal bones, proximal row. Scaphoid, lunate, triquetal, pisiform. Distal row. Trapezium, trapezoid, capitate, hamate. Then the metacarpal bones extending in three distinct phalanges. Proximal, middle, distal,” Martha recited pointing to each of them. 

In awe Jane smiled, “you read that in a book,” it was the only answer. She herself had learned several things through books. 

“Yes, to pass my exams,” Martha paused, “can't you see this is true,” she questioned.

It scared Jane how much she did believe what Martha was saying, “I must go,” she said needing to get out of there. 

Martha moved closer to her, her eyes pleading, “if we find that watch, then we can stop them,” she promised. 

She took a deep breath, “those boys are going to fight. I have to find Joan, they will need a nurse. They need me,” she lied. Really she needed to busy herself, to think about anything but this, to be nearer to her husband. She hated how lost she felt without him. What Martha said simply could not be true. Shaking her head Martha went about looking. If the family was searching for the Doctor then they did not have the watch. She had to find it. 

Hurrying down the stairs Jane found her friend in the office, “what help do you need,” she questioned seeing Joan in her nursing apron. 

“Jane,” she noted, “you can ready these,” she said leaving bandages and items to be packed and moving onto another table to ready another bag. 

“You're with Armitage and Thwaites. They know the drill,” said John as two boys walked into the room positioning themselves by the window followed by John. Looking from Joan to Jane he moved closer to his wife. “It's not safe,” he whispered urgently. He needed her out of here, he needed her safe. He had a duty to fulfill. She had a whole life before her. It was one thing to have worry for his wife in the back of the mind but with her so close to everything happening was too much. He would not be able to concentrate when his mind was already trying to talk him out of fighting, talk him into saving these boys in any way possible despite his training. 

Pausing Jane met his gaze as her hand came to his arm, “I'm doing my duty, just as much as you. Fine evening we've had together,” she scoffed. 

A smirk spread across his face, “not quite as planned,” he admitted. 

Her gaze met his eyes, the brown pools that screamed so much more, that he was so much more. Stealing she took a deep breath, “John, tell me about Nottingham,” she questioned. 

His face tightened, “Sorry?” He had to have been mishearing her. 

Turning Jane began to ready the bag again. She couldn’t stand the look of betrayal on his face, “that's where you were brought up. Tell me about it,” she pushed. 

“Well, it lies on the River Leen, its southern boundary following the course of the River Trent which flows from Stoke to the Humber,” he recalled.

A sense of fear and knowing rose within her, that sounds like an encyclopaedia. Where did you live,” she continued. 

“Broadmoor Street. Adjacent to Hotley Terrace in the district of Radford Parade,” he recited angrily. Why was she asking this now of all times? After what had been said about him, to him.

Her hand came up cupping his face, “but more that facts. When you were a child, where did you play? All those secret little places, the dens and hideaways that only a child knows? Tell me, John. Please tell me,” she begged allowing her fear to trickle through as her voice trembled. 

John’s eyes darkened and she instantly pulled her hand away,” how can you think that I'm not real,” he growled looking at her. How could she think anything other? He took her hands, “when I kissed you, was that a lie,” he practically begged. 

“No, it wasn't. No,” she softly whispered. 

His heart was breaking, did she want him to be this imaginary man? “But this Doctor sounds like some, some romantic lost prince. Would you rather that? Am I not enough,” he worried. 

“No, that's not true. Never,” she said gently squeezing his hand as a boy ran by.

Startling he pulled a hand away, “I've got to go,” he noted. 

She tugged on his arm, “Martha was right about one thing, though. Those boys, they're children. John Smith wouldn't want them to fight, never mind the Doctor. The John Smith I married, he knows it's wrong, doesn't he?” Surely he would not want them to fight. 

Rocastle popped his head in the door, “Mister Smith, if you please,” he requested.

Shrugging John looked lost, like a lost boy, “what choice do I have,” he questioned pulling her close and pressing her lips to his. His mouth melded against hers as his hand came up desperate to memorize the feel of her face against his, the touch of her skin. Breaking it off far to soon for Jane’s liking he walked away leaving her with Joan.

Looking down at her hands she was shaking, Joan walked over to her, “are you alright,” she queried. 

“Yes,” Jane acknowledged gripping the watch again.

“Beware,” the similar voice to John’s yelled as an image of him covered in pouring water scary and cold played through her mind. She let go in shock. Everything she believed was a lie. Her heart told her Martha was right. What was she to do.


	17. Chapter 17

John tried to rid his thoughts of the words his wife had said. Rocastle pulled him aside, “they want us to hand you over,” he told him, “they have gone mad believe you to be someone from another country.”

An Alien, John thought. Just like Martha had said. “I know not what they want,” he proclaimed mostly telling the truth. They were mad. He was John Smith, not some magical man who lived in a box. He looked at the boarded gate before them. He could give himself up but he would leave Jane alone. He could never do that. 

“Stand to,” Rocastle yelled as the gate began to sway being hammered.

He focused on the gate, the hammering, anything but his thoughts. Feeling something wet John lifted his hand, running it over his cheek and looked at it. He was crying. Weak and feble he was crying at a time that needed strength. He looked over at the boys, so scared, most of them trembling. “At post,” Rocastle yelled. John lifted his gun as everyone aimed at the gate, “Enemy approaching. Steady. Find the biting point,” he paused. With each bang John clenched his gun tighter, more in fear. Giving way the gate shattered allowing for scarecrows to break in. “Fire,” Rocastle yelled. Bullets flew echoing in John’s ears as the scarecrows blew apart falling to the ground. Everyone but John. Standing there he could not bear to be the cause of harm to another. He was a bloody pacifist working at a military school. Rocastle’s “ceasefire,” clamored into his head. 

Lowering his gun as the scarecrows fell, “they're straw. Like he said, straw,” called a boy as he looked at the destruction. “No one's dead, sir? We killed no one,” they questioned looking at John for answers. 

Jane felt like she needed to be there. The gun shots only made the urgency strike stronger. She didn’t care if she died, she only wanted to be with John. She didn’t matter. They didn’t matter. They had to save the boys. Tugging on the bag she went towards the noise seeing Martha peering out a window, “what is is,” she worried.

“Scarecrows, all of them shot down,” Martha explained.

Jane must not have heard right. Moving to the window her eyes verified what Martha had said. John stood there frazzled, boys in tears, likely wanting their mum. 

“Stand to,” Rocastle called as footsteps began approaching. A small girl and her balloon walked toward them. John watched in disbelief. “You, child. Come out of the way. Come into the school. You don't know who's out there. It's the Cartwright girl, isn't it? Come here. Come to me,” he pled going out to her, wanting to help her.

“No,” Martha gasped running out the door Jane quickly followed behind her. She was not going to get to have all the fun. “Mister Rocastle! Please, don't go near her,” she begged. 

Rocastle turned to see Martha, “you were told to be quiet,” he growled. 

“Just listen to me. She's part of it. Jane, tell him,” she pushed. 

Nodding Jane swallowed suddenly feeling John at her side, “I think that. I don't know. I think you should stay back, Headmaster,” she suggested unsure what she believed anymore or what she knew to be true.   
“Mister Smith,” Martha urged. 

“She was, she was with, with Baines in the village,” he admited.

Jane could see the anger in Rocastle face, “Mister Smith, I've seen many strange sights this night, but there is no cause on God's Earth that would allow me to see this child in the field of battle, sir,” he said turning back to her, “come with me,” he told her extending an arm. 

“You're funny,” the girl accused.

He swallowed, “that's right. Now take my hand,” Rocastle urged. 

Her hand moved inside her jacked, “so funny,” she said raising out a gun and shooting green light out.

Jane couldn’t believe that where he had been standing now was falling dust. “”Now who's going to shoot me. Any of you, really,” the little girl asked.

John knew she was right. He had to act fast. Shooting this girl was going to get them nowhere. He had to save them, “put down your guns,” he ordered. 

“But sir, the Headmaster,” complained Hutchinson. 

Setting his gun down he kept his eyes on the girl, “I'll not see this happen. Not anymore. You will retreat in an orderly fashion back through the school. Hutchinson, lead the way,” he continued. Seeing them not move his eyes glared, “I said, lead the way,” he yelled. 

Baines stepped over the bodies of the scarecrows lifting his gun and shooting. The way he looked at John, “well, go on, then. Run,” he laughed. 

John jerked back seeing the gun fire. Taking Jane’s hand he waited for the boys to move, “come on,” Martha urged.

“To the kitchens,” John named after them. He had to get them out, get them to safety, get Jane to safety. Running through the corridors the boys huddled into the kitchen closing the door behind them, “let's go. Quick as you can,” he pushed. 

“Don't go to the village. It's not safe,” Martha warned of them as they ran out the last door. 

Turning to Martha and Jane he faid to look at Jane’s eyes, “and you, ladies,” he noted absence of emotion. He had to be strong. He had to make them leave. He needed Jane out of there. 

“Not till we've got the boys out,” she demanded.

His hands pressed against her shoulders, “I insist the both of you must go. If there are any more boys inside, I’ll find them,” he promised finally meeting her gaze. Pressing a quick kiss to her lips John went back to the door opening it. Scarecrows fell through as he pushed it closed again locking it, “I think retreat,” he rethought running after them and taking Jane’s hand as they rushed into the woods. 

They paused trying to decide what to do. Martha knew she had to get him to the TARDIS. It was the only other way she could think of to get him to remember. She looked over at the Doctor holding Jane close to him, both in shock of what was occuring. “Doctor, Doctor,” called Mr. Clark. 

“Come on,” Martha whispered ducking down and the three of them moved until the could see Mr. Clark standing outside the school, scarecrows guarding the TARDIS. Well, there went her grand escape plan. 

Jane kneeled beside him her hand still gripping his. “Come back, Doctor. Come home. Come and claim your prize,” Mr. Clark continued to goad him. 

Out from the building walked the little girl, Baines and Jenny, “out you come, Doctor. There's a good boy. Come to the Family,” called Baines. 

“Time to end it now,” demanded Jenny.

Jane’s eyes were mesmerized by the blue box, “you recognise it, don't you,” Martha pushed the Doctor. 

“Come out, Doctor. Come to us,” Jenny yelled. 

John shook his head, “I've never seen it in my life,” he protested. 

Martha knew that had to be a lie if he was having the dreams Jane had told her about, “do you remember its name?”

“The TARDIS,” Jane said still mesmerized. It was almost as if the box was calling to her. As if she knew it. Like it was home. 

Gasping Martha looked at her, “I'm sorry,” she recoiled. How did this woman know about the TARDIS unless the Doctor had told her. 

Eyes widening in surprise John looked at his wife, “did I tell you about the dreams I had of it,” he said in shock of her knowing the name. Had he? She could not remember. “The blue box. I dreamt of a blue box. I never knew the,” he trailed off realizing he did not know the name. His dreams were just fragments, fragments of his imagination. “I'm not,” he paused, “I'm John Smith. That's all I want to be. John Smith, with his life, and his job, and his love. Why can't I be John Smith? Isn't he a good man,” he begged tears flowing freely. 

Pulling him into her arms Jane nodded, “yes. Yes, he is,” she promised her own tears matching his. 

He pulled back, “why can't I stay,” he pled. 

Looking at the two of them she hated to see this man so unlike the Doctor, so full of fear, “but we need the Doctor,” she explained. 

“What am I, then? Nothing!,” he huffed. “I'm just a story,” John realized. He never existed at all. Standing he ran back into the woods, Jane quickly following him. She was going to lose her husband tonight. She already had. 

Catching up with him it took everything in Jane to match him step for step. He was on a mission. What that mission was Jane was pretty sure no one knew. Not even him. She saw a familiar road and reached out placing a hand on his arm, “this way. I think I know somewhere we can hide,” she suggested.

“We've got to keep going,” John dismissed. 

Reaching up Jane slapped John, his hand came to his face in disbelief. She was not sure why she did it but something felt like it was the only thing that would get through to him, “Just listen to me for once, John. Now, follow me,” she said taking off. If she was right this house would be empty, the owners dead, and they would be safe for a while. 

Outraged John followed. He couldn’t believe his wife had hit him or just ran off. Surely she was mad at the occurences of this evening. Coming up to a house Jane stopped, “oh, here we are. It should be empty,” she heaved feeling John and Martha catch up. “Oh, it's a long time since I've run that far,” she panted. 

“But who lives here,” Martha questioned. 

Joan looked at her, “if I'm right, no one. Er, the Cartwrights. That little girl at the school, she's Lucy Cartwright, or she's taken Lucy Cartwright's form. Joan brought me here once. If she came home this afternoon and if the parents tried to stop their little girl, then they were vanished,” she explained noticing John keeping his distance from her. Swiftly she made her way to the door pushing it open, “hello,” she called seeing a darkened empty room. “No one home. We should be safe here,” she said as John entered and closed the door behind them. Jane walked over to the teapot, “stone cold,” she noted. 

John came further into the room looking around. How could a little girl cause so much destruction? How could his own wife believe he to be an Alien? How could this be reality? He sunk into a chair If a little girl could cause this and they believed him to be some key he had to stop it, “I must go to them, before anyone else dies,” John announced. 

“How easily I accept these ideas,” Jane scoffed sitting beside him and reaching her hand out. “You can't. Martha, there must be something we can do,” she hoped. 

“Not without the watch,” she sunk. 

Jane’s hand flew to her purse gently tightening her grip on the watch, “now,” it said.

Anger raged through him, “you're this Doctor's companion. Can't you help? What exactly do you do for him? Why does he need you,” he screamed.

“Because he's lonely,” she replied tears welling up in her eyes. Why did this have to be so hard? Why could John Smith not just open the watch and become the Doctor again?

His hand squeezed Jane’s, “and that's what you want me to become,” he pushed. John began to stand, “I have to go.”

“John, please don’t,” Jane started. He swallowed meeting her eyes. Jane refused to meet his in return. She reached for her sack, opening it and removed the silver watch placing it on the table.


	18. Chapter 18

Martha grabbed the watch Jane had revealed, the watch she had been looking for all day. “You’ve had this watch all this time,” she demanded.

Nodding Jane refused to lift her head, “it sort of spoke to me, told me to wait,” she offered unsure of what she was saying yet believing every word of it. This all felt so familiar and yet she felt like she had just betrayed her husband. 

“Hold it,” Martha pushed.

Standing John backed away from the watch, “I won't,” he protested. 

“Please, just hold it,” she pled. 

Jane stood going to her husband, “it told me it wants to be held,” she confessed.

“You've had this watch all this time? Why didn't you return it,” he growled.

Jane too his hand. His eyes were angry, menacing, like he had no clue who she was anymore, “because it was waiting. And because I was so scared of the things I saw, the things I remembered,” she trailed off unable to form her thoughts. She took the watch back from Martha stepping towards John. A different version of himself came into her mind, one that she felt like had been calling to her this whole time, “he's like fire and ice and rage. He's like the night and the storm in the heart of the sun,” she began. 

John recoiled, “stop it,” he demanded. 

“He's ancient and forever. He burns at the centre of time and he can see the turn of the universe,”

He kept stepping back into the house kitchen, trying to escape, “stop it! I said stop it!”

Martha watched in awe and wonder. How this woman was the one pushing for the Doctor to become himself again knowing what she was about to lose. Jane offered a soft smile, “and he's wonderful,” she said still taken by.

His eyes pled with her, “those are just stories,” he protested.

“No John,” she affirmed. 

The cottage shook as loud bangs rumbled through the air, streaks of fire lit up the sky, “what the hell,” Martha gasped.

Startled Jane dropped the watch going to the window and seeing the fireballs, “they're destroying the village,” her heart stopped. “All those people, Joan,” she worried. 

Seeing the destruction John had to do something now, “the watch,” he said picking it up and holding it preciously, like a parent might a child. 

“John, don't,” she begged fear quelling within her. She had to tell him one last time. Oh God. This was it. She was going to be a widow. 

“Closer,” the watch suggested. 

He could hear it. He never would have thought his wife mad but the things she had said confused him. Here he could hear it too. “Can you hear it,” he asked of them.

Martha shook her head. “Closer,” the John like voice urged. 

“I think he's asleep. Waiting to awaken,” he said. 

Jane nodded swallowing hard, “why did he speak to me,” she wondered.

His expression changed causing Martha to smile seeing her Doctor, “oh, low level telepathic field. You were born with it. Just an extra synaptic engram causing,” he paused his face snapping back to that of his usual. “Is that how he talks,” he questioned looking at the watch fear evident in his eyes. How had this thing taken over his mind so easily, so completely? 

“That's him. All you have to do is open it and he's back,” she promised as another explosion boomed through the sky. 

John’s eyes darted between Jane and Martha. How could everything be coming down to this? “You knew this all along and yet you watched while Jane and I,” he accused. 

“I didn't know how to stop you. He gave me a list of things to watch out, for but that wasn't included,” she proclaimed moving closer to him.

Holding the watch away from him John listened in disbelief, “falling in love? That didn't even occur to him?”

She shook her head, “No.”

His eyes met Jane’s tears forcing their way out, “then what sort of man is that? And now you expect me to die?”

“It was always going to end, though! The Doctor said the Family's got a limited lifespan, and that's why they need to consume a Time Lord. Otherwise, three months and they die,” she paused. “Like mayflies, he said,” she offered. He just had to open the watch. If he opened it they would be done. 

Anger boiled within him. How dare this man create him out of thin air to willingly die for him to return, “so your job was to execute me,” he dared.

“People are dying out there. They need him and I need him. Because you've got no idea of what he's like. I've only just met him. It wasn't even that long ago. But he is everything. He's just everything to me and he doesn't even look at me, but I don't care, because I love him to bits. And I hope to God he won't remember me saying this. 

Another explosion shoot the abode, “it's getting closer,” Jane worried.

“I should have thought of it before. I can give them this. Just the watch. Then they can leave and I can stay as I am,” he said holding the watch out. 

Martha stepped closer to him, “you can't do that!” She wouldn’t let him do that. 

“If they want the Doctor, they can have him,” he growled.

She loomed closer. She might have to tackle this rubbish human, “he'll never let you do it,” she warned. 

“If they get what they want, then, then,” he trailed off. They would leave right? He and Jane could be happy again. Together.

Closing her eyes Jane took a deep breath. She had only seen it once, the tiniest of flashes, “then it all ends in destruction,” she said. “Those creatures would live forever to breed and conquer, for war across the stars for every child,” she cried. John broke out into a sob. How could he win? She turned, “Martha, would you leave us alone, please?”

Leave them alone what was Jane thinking but Martha went along with it. If there was someone that might be able to help this human change at least Jane was on her side. John broke down as Jane pulled him into her arms. His body shook against hers. “I love you. If I could do this instead of you, then I would. I'd hoped,” she stopped, “my hopes aren't important,” dismissed Jane.

John pulled back, “he won't love you.”

“If he's not you, then I don't want him to. I love you,” she proclaimed once again.

He stood there trying to burn every moment into his memory, “and it was real. I wasn't. I really thought,” he stammered. 

“So it is all true. This man I have gotten to know is not the real you,” she sighed looking at the watch. “Let me see. Blasted thing. Blasted, blasted thing. Can't even hear it now,” she resigned as John moved to take it back from her.

Before them was Jane laying on a blanket in the orchard John’s hand on her pregnant belly, him sitting in bed beside her holding their first-born child, walking in the woods with their children, him on his deathbed. “Did you see,” John gasped. 

She nodded sitting down, “the Time Lord has such adventures, but he could never have a life like that.”

“And yet I could,” he hoped sitting beside her and taking her hand. 

“You cannot give them the watch John. What are you going to do,” she questioned.

He looked at the simple thing with the intricate engravings, “I have to change back to save you don’t I,” he realized. If he did not change back he would never be able to keep Jane safe.   
Standing he walked over to the door, “John,” she cried running to him. Their bodies curled around each other, lips becoming one, one last time.

Stepping back he cupped her cheek, “I love you. No matter who this man is I have loved you, I will love you,” he promised. “Go,” he instructed.

“I'm not leaving you alone. Till death do us part remember,” she softly smiled. Taking her hand in his John nodded. He gave her a gentle squeeze with his right hand and opened the watch with his left. Gold light shimmered out of the watch encapsulating John. She stepped back tightly closing her eyes unable to stand the brightness.


	19. Chapter 19

Seeing gold light come from the house Martha rushed in, “Doctor,” she hoped.

Standing there was John Smith. Or what appeared to be John Smith. Blinking the Doctor's mind filtered back into place allowing his new memories to merge with his old. His mind had to be filtering incorrectly he figured. Until he saw her, “Donna,” he called moving towards Jane and pulling her into a hug.

Martha way he's in confusion as Jane backed away from him, “what,” said Martha confused. 

From the moment he walked towards her and out his arms around her Jane could tell this man wasn't John. He felt different, seed different. Yet he came to her. Maybe the process hadn't gone as it was meant to. “John, you are frightening me. Are you in shock,” she worried. 

Coiling back the Doctor shook his head, “no. Oh Donna Noble I am not sure how you got here but I will get you home and fix your memories,” he promised. He turned to Martha who was watching stunned. “I need you to keep an eye on her. I'll be back,” he instructed closing the watch and heading out. He had a job to do. 

Martha sighed into the chair. Of course after almost three months in 1913 she got stuck with babysitting duty. “Walking that the Doctor then,” Jane clarified.

“Yea,” Martha said. “He called you Donna,” she accused.

Wringing her hands she stared at her wedding ring, “he had said that name once before in a dream. He told me he had a companion like me but her name was difference.”

Martha took in what she had said. She had known things like the name to the TARDIS and the watch spoke to her. The family had smelled time on her. Maybe she was someone from the Doctor's past. Maybe that is why he was drawn to her from the start.

Jane had so many questions but the worries got her more. Standing she began to tidy the house. It didn't matter but no one lived here. Maybe she would want to one day. Without John. Her heart throbbed at thought but there was nothing left for her at the school other than the library. She paused to glance down at her rings. The rings that had meant so much, that had given her so much. She could see the sun starting to come up, Martha asleep in the chair. Jane found the items and made tea mostly to keep herself busy, some to keep herself up so this Doctor wouldn't leave without an explanation. She needed answers and she deserved them. What had he meant he would fix her memories? Had he taken them?

Pouring a cuppa Jane took it over to Martha, “ahem,” she said getting her attention. 

“Oh, um, oh, thank you she said seeing that Jane had made her a cup. She gladly took it and began to sip. 

It was obvious that she had cleaned the visible rooms and likely the others as well. “The Doctor is nice,” Martha offered.

“He isn't John,” she replied. The simple fact was that he wasn't John Smith no matter what happened. Right?

There was a knock on the door. Jane left up running to it. He stood there wearing a brown outfit she had never seen him in before. Or had she. It was all so familiar. She could see him, just like that standing in the blue box, she in a wedding dress but it wasn’t right. “John,” she gasped needing to support herself on the furniture. 

“Martha, can you give us a moment. TARDIS is on the hill,” he instructed. He needed to talk to Donna alone. Get her to come with him to the TARDIS so he could help her and he knew he would have penance. 

Standing Martha reached out her hand, “nice to meet you Jane.” The Doctor looked at her oddly. Self-consciously Martha pulled her hand back and went to change. She needed a proper shower and her own clothes again. 

The Doctor closed the door, sitting down and refusing to look at her, “you know what’s happened don’t you,” he hoped.

“No please tell me,” she begged terrified.

As he looked up he saw that look she had the first night they met, the night she brought him back from the edge. “He loved you so much he died for you,” the Doctor explained. “He did as you asked and did not give the watch to them. He chose to die,” he went on. 

Jane nodded, “so it is done,” she softly realized.

“It is done,” he echoed. The police and the army are at the school. The parents have come to take the boys home,” he told her.

Standing she moved, “I should go help Joan. They'll have so many questions. I'm not sure what to say,” she paused looking at him. She had hoped that maybe he would change when she had been staring at her rings. “Oh, you look the same. Goodness, you must forgive my rudeness,. I find it difficult to look at you,” she pushed his name out, “Doctor, I must call you Doctor.” It seemed like the perfect name for him and even saying it Jane found it odd that his name did not sound foreign in her mouth. 

“Donna, don’t,” he moved reaching his arm out and stopping her in her path. He couldn’t let her leave with anyone but him.

She stepped back, “you have his form, habits and move like him. Same shape of person. Is he not part of you? The human part,” she wondered aloud.

“There is no human part I’m a Time Lord. They are a different species. He was a character I created. You made him more like me, willing to give his life,” the Doctor explained. 

She shook her head this was all too much, “don’t say that,” Jane rebuked. Could you not become John Smith again,” she dared hope.

“I could,” he said, his head dropped. “That’s not true. I’d like to become a man again but it wouldn’t be John and I wouldn’t want to do it,” he confessed. 

Jane nodded, “well,” she said letting go of his hands, “I believe you are a good man. You didn’t know your human self would fall in love. He was braver than you in the end, that ordinary man. You chose to change. He chose to die.”

The Doctor stepped back at her wounding words. He knew them to be true. He also knew that once he helped Donna remember things would only worsen. “Come with me,” he begged.

“I'm sorry,” Jane said unsure what he was proposing. “What must I look like to you, Doctor? I must seem so very small,” she dismissed.

“No, I can help you remember. You do remember some things. I think that you do,” he dipped his head to meet her eyes.

She shook her head, “what are you on about,” she scoffed. How could this man help her with them?

“Your name is Donna. We have met before,” he started.

Placing a hand on the table near her she steadied herself, “you must have me mistaken Mr. Smith,” she assured him.

“You knew the name of the TARDIS and the Sonic Screwdriver,” he pushed.

“Because you told me about them,” Jane argued.

The Doctor took another step forward, “He dreamt about you. You know now the dreams I had were real. I dreamt about when we met on your wedding day. You appeared in my TARDIS fiery and yelling at the world,” he smiled reminiscing. 

A vision of her and him in his pinstripe suit popped into her head, “no,” she shook it off. 

“Come with me, let me help you remember. I will take you home,” he urged. 

Jane stood up straight clasping her hands, “I must be going. Joan will be wondering where I am,” she noted worried about what this Alien was planning to do.

He stepped aside, “okay,” the Doctor sighed allowing her to walk past. “If you will not willingly come,” he grunted grabbing her and throwing her over his shoulder, “I will have to take you kicking and screaming. How fitting for you Donna,” he chided.

“Put me down. Put me down this instant,” she yelled between kicks and smacks.

Martha heard the screaming and ran out of the TARDIS doors, “blimey I forgot how well you yell and hit,” the Doctor laughed. 

“I am not going on your ship with you. Help, someone help,” she begged.

Standing there dumbfounded Martha gapped at the Doctor carrying Jane against her will up the hill. “Doctor,” she started.

“Come in. Everything will be right as rain in a moment,” he promised. Martha closed the door as she came in behind them. 

As he set her down Jane looked around this ship, “it is, but how,” she gasped.

“Yes, yes, I know. We’ve been through this part before,” he said. “Now, you can walk to the sick bay or I can carry you,” he offered.

Jane could not believe the massive room she was in or that this Alien was acting like he had known her. “I’ll walk,” she lied. The Doctor turned and Jane made a break for the door. 

“Not so fast,” he said having been through this once with her.

Jane turned and slapped him across the face as he picked her back up, “an assist it is,” he said rubbing his cheek with his left hand. “Martha, you are welcome to join us. We’re going to help Donna here get her memories back,” he explained. 

Following him confused Martha couldn’t believe it, “when did you meet,” she questioned.

“Shortly before we met. Donna ended up on the TARDIS on her wedding day,” he recalled walking in and setting her on the exam table. 

The Doctor loomed close, “get off me,” she pushed.

His hands met the sides of her head, “this might hurt a bit,” he warned before closing his eyes. He pushed into her mind. It really was a lovely color. He could see where when she had hit her head there was damage caused to her brain in the memory recollection area. Her brain looks as if it had been repairing itself. Pulling back out the Doctor pointed to a drawer, “Martha can you open that there and hand me the instrument that looks like a mini gramophone.”

“Yes,” she said gathering the item and handing it to him.

“Thank you. With a little healing you should have your memories back. This just helps the tissue repair faster. Speeds up the process,” he explained.

Jane watched him fearfully. “I promise it will not hurt. I’m sorry Donna, I’m so sorry,” his face frowned. “I hope you will understand when it’s better,” he said.

“I certainly will not,” she spat. And the Doctor knew that he was worried of that too.

Carefully he placed the device to her head pressing the start button. Jane felt a warm sensation moving across her mind, like when he had been in her mind. It was like her brain was being bathed in positive energy. It actually felt good. Removing it the Doctor smiled, “Donna,” he questioned.

“No. Will you take me back now,” Jane pushed.

“Doctor what if this is not Donna,” Martha brought to his attention.

He looked her up and down, “nonsense. Something must be preventing your memories,” he stilled, “ah. You have been through a traumatic event today. Anyone would not want to remember the truth. Look at myself. Even my human self did not want to remember. Humans and their self-protective natures,” he said. “Sorry about this,” the Doctor continued placing his hands back on her temples and pushing into her mind. He saw a dam built, boarded up, like her brain wanted to protect her from the truth. He worried, maybe how she ended up back here was his fault. Maybe, he needed to fix it. And he would only be able to do it if she remembered. The Doctor nudged the forbidden area a little, then once again causing it to fall. Jane gasped, her eyes flying back in her head as the Doctor pulled out of her mind. “Donna,” he worried as she collapsed in his arms.

“Doctor,” Martha gasped at what she had just seen.

Gently he laid her down on the table, “she will be fine,” he said. “Just a little nap and her memories will be back,” he nodded. “Now Martha Jones,” he beamed turning to her, “time we moved on.” He moved back to the console room placing them in the vortex, “just for a bit until we know when to drop her off,” he offered.

She watched him, thoughts flooding through his mind, “do you remember,” she questioned.

The Doctor turned and nodded, “everything,” he admitted. 

Swallowing Martha groaned inwardly, “er, I meant to say, back there, last night. I would have said anything to get you to change,” she tried to explain the confession she had made to him. She needed to take it back, to say it wasn’t real, hide the truth.

“Oh yeah, of course you would. Yeah,” the Doctor acknowledged not mentioning how even Donna had picked up on her feelings. 

Martha hooked her thumbs in her back pocket, “I mean, I wasn't really,” she continued. 

“Oh, no, no,” the Doctor added. 

“Good,” Martha breathed.

The Doctor nodded, “fine,” he agreed.

Shrugging she took a deep breath, “so here we are then.”

“Yep,” he popped his P, “and I never said. Thanks for looking after me,” he told Martha pulling her into a hug.


	20. Chapter 20

Blinking her eyes opened Donna heard the gentle hum of the TARDIS. “Med bay,” she sighed. What had happened? Slowly she sat up. She had been having the oddest dream. Donna realized that she hadn’t been dreaming. No, her clothes and dream made her remember that they were memories. Oh, she was going to smack the shit out of the Doctor. Standing she walked out to find him, “Doctor,” she screeched finding him in the kitchen. 

“Donna,” he beamed standing and going to her. Donn gathered all her strength and slapped him hard across the face, “will you stop doing that he yelped causing Martha to burse into laughter. Maybe she would like this Donna after all. 

Turning at the laughter Donna walked over and grabbed a cuppa, “will you tell this skinny streak of nothing that he is going to have a lot more of that coming after the past three months,” she huffed. Donna paused, noticing the looks on their faces. It was like they were surprised she was so comfortable with the TARDIS. Noticing the Doctor’s face she remembered something River Song had said in the library about about the Doctor’s eyes and how much younger he looked. “You’re not him,” she realized.

“Him,” the Doctor questioned he was worried for a minute that she was was still having difficulty with her memories. 

She looked back at their stricken faces, “when are you two from? Did messaline just happen?”

“Messaline,” Martha questioned.

“Atmos,” Donna tried. She looked at Martha’s hand, “where is your ring,” she worried.

Martha glanced down at her hand, “my ring??

The Doctor stood up, “Donna we’ve only met once how did you come to be in 1913?”

“Weeping angels. Weeping angels sent us back,” she said his words sinking in. 

He stepped closer seeing panic cross her face, “us? You were with me?”

“Yeah, no,” Donna tried to remember. “You told me to get in the TARDIS, that it wasn’t safe. I went out and you saw a weeping angel and stopped it from touching me but then one touched you. I didn’t see it and one touched you and then once you were gone I was touched.”

He moved beside her taking her hand without realizing it, “Donna was it the same or different angels?

She thought back, “different,” she realized, “different. Where are you? Well future you?”

“In a different time than you. We should get you back, what year were you in? Month,” he questioned.

Donna stood there. How would he find her the Doctor from her present? “Wait, how will you find me,” she pushed.

“Well,” he quirked his head, “if I am past me then future me will remember when I left you,” he offered.

She eyed him, “future you who tries to take us to the beach and lands us in The Great War,” she dared. 

“Donna, I promise I will not leave you,” the Doctor said. 

“If you think that I’m going back to wait for you without talking about what happened you’re mistaken sunshine,” she pushed.

“Donna we should get you back,” he urged.

She raised her eyebrow, her hand itching to hit him again, “you have a time machine. Don’t think I don’t know that. We both know if you don’t talk about it now, we never will.”

How did she know him so well? “You travel with me,” he stated but it was more of a question. 

“Spoilers, “ Donna laughed using River’s own words. She had already said too much not knowing better. “So,” she said crossing her arms in expectation. 

He rocked on his heels, “I'll explain everything in the future,” he confirmed.

“I'm not some girl you promise to come round and see while you intend not to. You owe me an explanation,” she bellowed. Martha had to admit this Donna had a way of getting what she wants. She knew the Doctor and had his number. “Doctor, please talk to me,” she begged.

“I can't love you,” he blurted. The words stung. Donna was stuck at how much those words hurt, words that she didn’t expect to hear nor did she think to talk about. That wasn’t what she wanted. Or was it? She had been the one who wanted to talk. She laughed unsure what to say, “Im incapable of it,” he clarified.

She nodded, ”Doctor, if you are simply lying to me there is no need,” she said.

“No, he loved you. He loved you so much that he was willing to become me again to save you,” he tried. The Doctor looked so lost. 

“Where is he? John Smith? Is he apart of your or did he just die? Did you just absorb him,” she questioned. It wasn’t that she wanted him to be John Smith again. She just wasn’t sure what happened. Or why. 

The Doctor stepped forward, “like Martha said I had to become human,” he started reaching up and tugging on his ear. “Feel,” he took her hands and put them over his hearts.

“Is one of them his,” she asked confused. 

He shook his head, “I think both of my hearts are mine. He’s a different person,” the Doctor offered.

“So you remember everything,” she clarified.

“Yep,” he popped.

The words she had said as Jane echoed in her head. What must she look like to him? She reached to pluck the rings from her finger, “do you want these back,” she questioned pulling them.

“No, keep it please,” he begged his hand stilling hers. “Won’t you miss him,” the Doctor inquired.

Donna shook her head, “miss him? No. He wasn’t real. I wasn’t me,” she shook off.

“I should get you home,” he repeated.

Her arms came up and hugged herself, “I can’t go back like this. I need to change. Mum would lose her mind,” she said.

The Doctor thought back to his own exchanges with Sylvia Noble, “come on,” he said, “let’s get you to the wardrobe.

“I know where it is,” Donna said moving down the stairs. She walked in and searched through trying to find a pair of jeans and a shirt. Anything to get out of this outfit. 

Martha came over to the Doctor leaning against the coral strut, “you’re just going to take her home.”

“She’s from the future,” he said.

Finally finding what she was looking for Donna attempted to free herself of the dress. “Shit,” she forgot that she had John help her into it. She popped her head out of the wardrobe, “can I get some help in here,” she called. 

Standing the Doctor gave Martha a wink, “I got it. Likely as confused as you were your first time in there.”

“I don’t think this is her first time,” Martha rebuked. 

“How can I help you,” the Doctor questioned bounding into the wardrobe.

Donna stood there looking at him, “oh, um, I need this unhooked,” she said pulling her fallen hair out of the way.

“Okay,” the Doctor assured her coming over. 

She could feel him behind her, fingers brushed against her neck as he unhooked the dress, “there,” the Doctor chirped. “Was there anything else,” he wondered.

“No, thanks,” she said turning around. He just stood there, “you can go,” she urged.

He nodded, “oh, right, yes,” the Doctor said closing the door and leaving her alone.

Quickly Donna stripped her dress off allowing it to fall to the floor and put on the more familiar outfit. She saw herself in the mirror and began pulling her hair down. She had to at least appear normal when she saw her mum. At least she looked halfway decent. She didn’t like the idea of being left at home for his future self to find her but he also didn’t know what any other option was. “Ready,” Donna said walking back up the stairs. 

Materializing he set them on a familiar Chiswick lane much like he had last Christmas. “Until we meet again,” he said shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah,” Donna agreed. “Martha keep a sharp eyes on this one,” she pulled her into a hug.

The Doctor stood by the door, “see you soon,” he said.

“You better,” Donna warned giving his arm a smack. Stepping off the TARDIS Donna watched the ship disappear before her eyes. It would be another year and a half for him. A year that he and Martha would suffer. She saw the house she grew up in before her, and didn’t want to knock on the door, even if she could see that her mum wasn’t there. This wasn’t home anymore.


	21. Chapter 21

Walking up to her mum’s house Donna pulled her shirt down. She was nervous and there was no reason why. Yet, there was every reason why. Reaching the door she pushed the bell. She could hear her Gramps talking to himself as he made his way over. Seeing his granddaughter the old man burst into a smile, “and how is the misses,” he grinned.

“Hi gramps,” Donna smiled pulling the old man into a hug.

Wilf looked out into the street, “where is that friend of yours,” he questioned.

She shrugged, “I don’t know. Hoping he’ll find me soon,” she sighed

“He lost you,” Wilfred worried.

She nodded fighting back tears, “it’s a long story,” Donna trailed off.

Moving Wilf allowed her into the house, “come lets have a cuppa and you can tell me about it.”

Walking into the house Donna felt odd. Everything was as she remembered it but nothing was the same. She wasn’t the same. Not since meeting the Doctor and certainly not since traveling with him. The things she had seen, things she had done. They changed her. “I can make it gramps,” Donna said shaking her thoughts. 

Walking into the kitchen she turned the kettle on and pulled two cups down, “where did you just get back from this time,” the old man asked. 

Swallowing she reached for the tea, “1913,” she replied.

“What were you doing there? Go see King George,” he joked.

Pouring the hot water Donna shrugged, “I got sent there,” she said worrying her lip while fixing his tea just as he liked it. 

Turning Donna handed the man his tea, “sent there,” he repeated.

She sunk into the chair across from him, “there are these aliens that when they touch you they send you back in time to feed off your lost life,” she explained. The Doctor and I ended up around some. He tried to protect me he really did but he wasn’t able to,” she offered. 

“So you married someone who could,” Wilf noted nodding to the rings on her finger. 

Smiling Donna looked at them, “I married him,” she huffed. “I didn’t know it was him,” she quickly added, “and he didn’t know I was me,” she continued. Oh how things were such a mess. “When I got sent back I landed hard, hit my head. I didn’t remember anything. This very sweet man saved me. We fell in love, got married, like you do,” she told her grandfather.

“And that man was the Doctor? He married you in 1913,” he pushed. 

Donna could see a bit of confusion mixed with a bit of anger in her Gramp’s face. “Yeah,” she answered, “but he didn’t know,” she reaffirmed. “You see back when he was traveling with Martha,” she paused, “you remember Martha from that Atmos business,” she hoped. He nodded, “well, he had to make himself human to escape these aliens. They wanted his power and it was the only thing he could do. So when I met the Doctor he was just John Smith.”

“You married a human version of the Doctor,” Wilfred summarized trying to make sure he understood.

She nodded, “yeah. Then the aliens found him anyway and he changed back. He remembered me from the wedding and gave me back my memories then brought me back here,” she remarked as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

“You are married to this man then,” he wondered.

“Yes, John Smith, although no I don’t think so because he’s dead. So I’m a widow,” Donna supposed. 

“Whose a widow,” Sylvia questioned coming in and setting groceries down on the counter. She turned seeing Donna’s hand absently making rings around the rim of her cup, “Donna Eileen Noble,” she yelped.

Donna saw the rings at the same time as her mum, “it’s not what it looks like,” she promised.

“It looks like you got engaged and married without telling your Gramps or I. Who is he, this man,” she demanded. 

She stood up, “I’m not married mum,” she told her.

“Oh so you just go around pretending you’re married? No wonder you can’t find a man,” she spat.

It took everything in her to not spew all of the hateful things swirling around in her head, “ I have loved mum. I’ve loved several times and I’ve lost them all. You’re right. I’m never going to get married because no one wants me,” she agreed. 

“Donna,” Wilf tried as she shoved past Sylvia.

She shrugged, “don’t even know why I bother to try,” she cringed, “gonna borrow the car. I’ll be back before it’s dark. Your piece of nothing daughter needs a place to stay,” she murmured taking the keys and leaving them alone in the house.

Starting the car Donna began driving. She wasn’t sure where she was driving but something was almost calling to her. Like she needed to be somewhere. But the truth was she didn’t have anywhere to be. She found her car wandering down a small road that seemed eerily familiar. Pulling up further Donna realized why. As her car crept up everything stilled in her vision. Before her was the TARDIS, surrounding it two angels as if they were moving it. They must have stopped when she pulled up. But why did they have the time machine? Donna wanted to know.

Swallowing she made sure to keep her eyes on the angels. Thankfully the light would help prevent her predicament from the last time. Donna place the car in park and went to open the door. Fear filled her. What if she was touched again and was sent back? What if they killed her? The Doctor wasn’t even here. It paralyzed her. And paralyzation around the angels was one thing she was sure wasn’t a good idea. Hitting the car into reverse Donna sped away. She drove until her heart stopped beating as fast and pulled over crashing her head against the steering wheel. “I can’t even face a statue,” she sobbed. 

Donna sat there crying, for her, for the Doctor, for John Smith, until she noticed the sun starting to go down. “Shit,” she gasped and forced the car on. Her mum was going to kill her. Speeding back Donna pulled up to her house seeing a familiar blue box. Sling the car into park Donna grabbed the keys and ran out bursting through the front door of her mum’s house, “Doctor,” she called.

He was sitting at the table with Wilf drinking tea, “Donna,” he chirped standing up and pulling her into a hug. It felt good to be in the Doctor’s arms again. “I told you to wait,” he recalled. 

“Yeah well, you’ve told me a lot of things in the last three months,” Donna sassed realizing what she said only after it left her mouth. She paused, “I’m sorry,” she quickly added. “Has it been three months for you too,” she pressed.

The Doctor nodded, “three months in 1963,” he volunteered. 

Noticing that they were still intertwined Donna abruptly moved back putting space between them. She watched as the Doctor’s hands awkwardly fell at his sides. “We should go. I’m dying for a shower, 1913 isn’t too fond on the bathing but I’m sure you remember that,” she laughed pulling him behind her. “Bye Gramps, give my love to mum,” she said placing the keys on the table as she pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

“Donna, we can stay, really,” the Doctor offered.

She shook her head, “it’s better if we don’t,” ehe urged yanking him from the house and in a beeline for the TARDIS.

Reaching the door Donna pushed it open only letting go of the Doctor once they were aboard. “What was that about,” he inquired. 

“Mum and I got into it,” she shrugged sitting on the jump seat.

The Doctor came closer to her, “I’m sorry, what about,” he questioned.

“What was it like back in 1963,” Donna interrupted trying to change the subject.

He rocked on his heels, shoving his hands in his pockets, “oh you know hippies and the beatles,” he dismissed.

“Well how did you find the TARDIS? I saw the angels had it,” she revealed.

Smirking he leaned against the console, “oh with a little bit of forethought I had a plan,” he proclaimed.

Donna laughed, “you never have a plan spaceman,” she argued.

“Well in this case I did,” he revealed pulling out a green envelope from his pocket, “it was all written down before me. Most everything I needed to do, the plan I had made all there for me to complete. Like a puzzle,” the Doctor explained.

She listened to his words. He knew that he was going to end up in 1963 before he did and he never told her. “You knew this was going to happen? You knew it had happened? You knew that we,” she gasped. 

“No,” he protested.

She stood glaring at him, “what did you conveniently forget,” she spat.

“I didn’t forget,” he softened. “It had just already happened,” he shrugged.

“To you,” Donna’s voice boomed. “It had happened to you not to me. You couldn’t even warn me,” she chastised. 

“You wouldn’t have remembered,” the Doctor implored.

“But I would have known that one day I’d wake up married to you and having slept with you countless times time boy.” she growled.

He swallowed not dropping her gaze, “I understand you are angry.”

“Angry is an understatement. You knew when I found you that we were headed to this and you never said anything not one peep. You said you wanted a mate. You made it so clear. What was the point,” Pushed Donna. She took a deep breath realizing the answer to her own question. “because Martha got hurt that we,” she trailed off. Martha had said the Doctor was pining over a lost love. She shook the thought from her head and crumpled to floor. “What is wrong with me,” she sobbed. “Why do I keep falling in love with people who aren’t real? Lance, Lee, Rudolph, John she shook,” her head, “I’m pathetic.”

“Nothing is wrong with you Donna,” he frowned.

She rolled her eyes at his answer, “yeah,” she nodded sarcastically. “Pathetic Donna Noble who no one can really love. I think I’m going to have a bath,” she said wiping the tears from her face as she stood. The Doctor took a step behind her, “don’t,” she dared leaving him in the console room alone.


	22. Chapter 22

Laying in the tub Donna leaned back. It felt fantastic to be aboard the TARDIS again. To be with commodities of her time. Even if she hadn’t been able to remember them when she was stuck in 1913. The amenities of that time never did make her feel quite clean. Rinsing off Donna pushed herself up grabing a huge fluffy towel from the rack and wrapping herself in it. She looked at the new lines on her face, the lines of living a life with the Doctor. She brushed out her wet hair, pulling it up into a bun, mostly out of habit by now. 

Walking out Donna grabbed her favorite navy polka dotted set. Slipping into them she sunk onto the bed. Donna looked around unsure what to do, unsure what to think. Reaching for her remote she curled up on the bed and turned the telly on, “show me what you got,” she breathed pulling a blanket up over her. The TARDIS did just that, turning on Downton Abbey, “seriously,” Donna grappled. The ship hummed in reply and Donna shot her a glance before settling down in her pillows. 

Laying there in the comfort of her bed, watching those in the 1910s, she found herself saddened. Crippled by what future laid before those she had come to know, by what the war would bring them tears started seeping from her eyes. She missed it, missed being in 1913 and felt completely stupid for it. Blinking her eyes Donna rolled on her back. She stared at her ceiling wishing to go to sleep. Wishing to fall asleep or disappear rather than wanting to face the Doctor ever again. 

There was a soft knock on the door. Taking a deep breath she went over cracking it open but no one was there. Donna opened the door wider seeing an empty corridor. Empty except for a small package sitting before her door. Bending down Donna gently picked it up. She smiled softly, “thank you,” she said to noone and yet she knew he would hear her. 

Coming back in the safety of her room Donna pulled the white paper off the a book. In her hands was a delicate green bound book with gold design on the spine reading Little Women. Donna smiled allowing her hand to caress the cover, “oh spaceman,” she sighed before placing it on her bedside shelf and crawling back into bed. He had remembered. She curled up listening to the telly and finally passed out from exhaustion. 

Waking the next morning Donna found the tissues from the night before, from all the tears she had cried. Taking a deep breath she gathered them up, “I’m not going to cry anymore tears,” she steeled herself. Readying herself, she got ready for whatever the day might hold for them. She came out into the empty corridor and to the kitchen. Her stomach was rumbling wildly. Donna wasn’t sure when the last time she actually had ate was.

Sitting at the table was the Doctor, sipping a cup of tea, “morning,” he greeted watching her.

Donna offered him a smile, “morning,” she agreed walking over and turning the kettle on. “Where we headed to today,” she wondered aloud pulling eggs out of the fridge. 

“I was thinking we could head back to Chiswick,” he suggested.

Her heart stopped, “why,” Donna worried.

“Thought you might like to be around family,” he surmised.

Her eyes narrowed on him. The Doctor was staring at his cup rather than her, “what’s going on spaceman,” she dared.

Licking his lips, he continued to stare at his cuppa, “I just thought after tonight,” he trailed off.

“You mean because I’m mad at you, you want to send me home,” pushed Donna.

The Doctor jumper up, “no,” he promised. “I thought you would want to be around them, around home for awhile after everything that happened,” he explained.

“So, you don’t want to just drop me at home and leave me there because I’ve seen what you look like naked,” she queried.

His mouth dropped open in shock, “I’ve seen you too,” he shot back.

“Oi, watch it,” she spat.

He quirked a smile, “there’s my Donna, er, you know what I mean,” he babbled trying to fix his words. “I just thought maybe you’d like to go shopping,” the Doctor said.

“Apparently living without the TARDIS domesticated you a bit,” Donna laughed turning her attention back to her eggs and flipping them.

“So is that a no to shopping then,” the Doctor asked.

Donna shot a look over her shoulder, “it’s a yes spaceman,” she grinned finishing her eggs and plating them before pouring her tea. Joining him at the table Donna sat down, “so shopping in Chiswick or how about London,” she hinted.

“Would you prefer London,” he queried.

She thought over his question, “I mean might be best to escape any chances of seeing my mum,” she agreed.

“London it is,” he beamed, “once you finish breakfast,” he noted watching her eat her eggs. 

It made perfect sense to Donna that they wouldn’t talk about it. It was very Doctor like and if he wasn’t going to bring anything up she sure wasn’t either. “Alright spaceman,” Donna grinned standing and placing her dish in the sink, “you were saying shopping,” she grinned.

The Doctor got up heading out to the console room. Donna couldn’t help but notice that he was acting off. Something had happened in 1963. She was sure of it. “One trip to London coming up,” he smiled. As soon as the Doctor hit the lever the TARDIS shook violently. 

The Doctor peered into the scanner, “what’s wrong,” Donna shouted over the wheezing of the TARDIS as she was shaken again. She barely grabbed onto the railing to prevent from falling in time.

His hands held onto the console trying to remain on his feel, “not sure. We’re off course by a couple thousand years,” he noticed staring into the display.

“Two thousand years in the future,”she scoffed, “prices are going to be miserable,” Donna sighed.

The Doctor eyed her disbelieving as the TARDIS jerked to a stop and materialized sending her flying, “I’m sorry to say in the past, not the future,” he offered walking over and helping Donna up.

“Where are we,” she worried. Running down to the doors the Doctor yanked them open as she followed down the ramp joining him, “huh time boy,” she pushed.

He bent down grabbing a bit of dirt between his thumb and forefinger and placed it on his tongue, “Rome, 39, no,” he paused using his tongue to grit the earth to his teeth, “40 AD,” he clarified. 

“And what are we going to do in Rome,” she sighed.

The Doctor shrugged, “stay away from Palatine Hill,” he told her. But frowned when she didn’t get it. 

“Colosseum,” she tried.

“Not built yet,” the Doctor explained. 

Donna looked at the vast dirt before them, “don’t suppose it’s too late to pop back in the TARDIS is it,” she hoped.

“Come on,” he encouraged taking her hand and beginning to walk. 

Noticing how tightly he was holding it Donna pulled her hand from his, “something wrong,” the Doctor worried.

“Your hands are sweaty,” she lied.

He paused, “I do not sweat,” the Doctor rebuked.

“You do to,” Donna hushed him pushing past him. 

It wasn’t long before they came across a white marble building with columns adorning the outside and fountains surrounding it, “this isn’t right,” the Doctor noticed touching one of the columns. 

“Isn’t right,” she inquired not fully listening to him. She could hear music and laughter coming from inside. Ducking in Donna say plates of bread, olives and nuts were spread about, with cheese, figs, dates, plums. 

Wine was flowing freely, “great breasts you have,” a roman bellowed seeing Donna.

“Oi,” she startled gearing up to give him a slap.

The room went quiet, two men by the door raised their spears. She felt the Doctor’s hand on hers, “sorry my wife was raised by a Celt,” the Doctor excused. The men and women watching nodded in understanding. 

“I am not his wife,” she bellowed ripping her arm from his hand.

A woman came up, “oh his concubine,” she said understanding.

“His what,” Donna dared unbelieving of what she had just called her.

The Doctor reached in for his psychic paper, “Spartacus, marble inspector,” he introduced himself. 

“Used that before,” gritted Donna.

He shrugged, “when in Rome,” he nodded.

“You are here to inspect my marble,” a man stood the crowd quieted as he moved toward them. A short bearded man came over to them wearing a toga. He was not good looking at all Donna thought to herself. “Is something wrong with my marble,” he questioned.

“Nero,” he greeted, “I’m afraid the way you transport them must be investigated. Nothing that you have done, but your subjects,” he confirmed. 

The man looked at the two of them, “how is it you allow your woman to dress like this,” he demanded.

“Travel clothes the Doctor noted, latest fashion in Jerusalem,” he prattled fasities. 

Nero spit at the the mentioning of Jerusalem, “you will change your clothes,” he ordered. 

“Yes, yes,” agreed the Doctor. 

A woman came up to them, “let us get you and your concubine a stola,” she invited them to follow her.

Nero eyed her, “and then you may meet with our marblers,” he instructed.

“Thank you,” the Doctor said taking Donna’s hand and tightening his grip on it as they were lead away.


	23. Chapter 23

The lady left Donna and the Doctor in a room together, “legally married or not you need to turn around,” she growled.

“Donna I’ve,” he thought otherwise and put up a piece of cloth between them before she began to change.

“How is it your clothes always go unnoticed everywhere but Rome,” she shot.

He chuckled softly, “time lord,” he smiled. “The TARDIS key is a perception filter,” he said.

“All I have to do is wear my TARDIS key? Why didn’t you tell me,” she huffed trying to since her dress.

The curtain moved between them, “well it doesn’t always work but then again I think Nero is an alien,” he rattled.

“An alien? So who is this Nero exactly,” Donna questioned trying to tie the tunic unsuccessfully, “umph, why are these clothes always so difficult,” she growled.

The Doctor’s head popped around the curtain, “need some help,” he questioned.

“Oi,’ yelped Donna.

His face dropped, “let me help,” he hoped.

Glaring she held the part of fabric gathered around her out to him, “I can’t get it to synch,” she fumed.

Walking over to her the Doctor took the fabric, “Nero is known as the madman of Rome. He takes what he wants, who he wants. It is said he beat both of his wifes to death, one while pregnant with his child,” he said making ease of the synching, “there,” the Doctor chirped stepping back.

“Never heard of him,” she dismissed. She watched as he moved to the door trying the handle. “Seriously,” Donna sassed when it didn’t open. Moving for his pocket he grabbed his sonic screwdriver making quick work of the lock and pushed the door open. 

“Come on,” he urged and Donna followed him as he left the room.

They made a quick turn to the left, “stop where you are,” a loud voice boomed.

“Not so much,” the Doctor dismissed grabbing Donna’s hand ane making a run for it. The tunnels were maze like even though Donna knew they had just walked down her.

“Halt,” yelled another guard cutting them off with a spear pointing at them. They were trapped. 

The guards enclosed on them, “sorry,” the Doctor offered to her.

“Oi, watch it,” Donna spat as the guards seized them. 

Dragging them up the stairs they pushed them into a small room, “Let them go,” the small hairy man from earlier demanded. Releasing them the guards stayed close behind in attempt to prevent another escape. “Ah, Doctor, I have been waiting a long time for you,” the man drawled walking towards them. 

The Doctor’s eyes narrowed as he took his brainy specs out to get a closer look, “that's impossible,” he exclaimed.

“What is,” asked Donna uncertainty filling her. How had this man known the Doctor? The man before them shifted shape, “oh my,” Donna gasped seeing herself in front of them. “What How? When? Where,” the Doctor pained.

The creature stepped forward, “you killed my brother,” it growled.

“This is wizard,” Donna lamented.

Stepping forward the Doctor placed him between the two Donna, “don’t let it touch you,” he gritted not taking his eyes off the fake Donna. 

“Who are you,” questioned the Doctor.

“I am Potomu,” answered the other Donna. “My planet is gone, and you took the thing I had left,” he dared.

Stepping forward the Doctor raised his hands innocently, “I know what it’s like to be the last of your kind. Your brother attached my previous self. I tried to show him leientency. He was sucked from my TARDIS,” he explained. 

“I have waited a long time to exact my revenge. Now you shall die,” it hissed.

Potomu began making a whirring noise raising up and hovering in the room before them, “civilisations rise and fall,” called the Doctor. 

“But what will become of me? Last of the Kymbra Chimera. I will not be like you time lord,” it dared.

The Doctor continued towards it, “your brother left you. You don't owe him anything. You have to go on,” he paused and his face dropped saddened by his own memories. Donna recognized his face from the memories he had nightmares of when he was John Smith, “I understand what you're going through, Potomu. I know what it's like to be alone, to be the last of your kind, but you've got a chance to live for them. There's nothing for you here,” he implored the creature. 

“You are right, Doctor,” said Potomu, ”it is not easy to leave behind the things you once loved. But my time here is not over. You will pay for my brother’s life,” he ranted. The creature swooped in at him as fangs came from the fake Donna’s mouth.

The Doctor threw himself towards it, aiming his sonic at the other, “cover your ears,” he yelled and as Donna did what he said, a screeching noise emitted from the sonic. She watched as the second version of herself skin began to wiggle before turning into a small bat like creature. It swooped closer, as he held up his sonic buzzing at it again. The animal shot back screeching in pain and exploded in a poof of red droplets before them. 

The Doctor ran over to where the droplets fell as Donna hurried behind him, “what was that,” she fretted.

“Another piece of my past,” he resigned. “When you get to be 900 years old there is not much without a connection to you,” he sighed standing again. He looked so lost, having remembered his people, remembered the things he lost. 

Donna stepped forward, “you gave him a choice,” she tried.

Quickly standing up the Doctor tweaked his Sonic, “com on, Nero has to be around here,” he said aiming his sonic at the wall. “He had to have hid him in a secret compartment. The Kymbra Chimera’s need a life/power source,” he said scanning across the walls. The Sonic made a different ping, “ah here,” he said as the marble began to move opening up.

Inside was the same ugly little man tied up and worn out, “where am I?”

“Probably best if I don't explain. Just put it down to too much cheese. Weird dreams, attempted death, something like that,” he rambled untying Nero and helping him stand.

The man leaned up against the wall, “I demand you stay at court and eat with us in honor of you saving me,” he weakly said.

“You’re not in a place for demands,” scoffed Donna.

The Doctor shot her a look, “who are you two,” Nero questioned.

“The Doctor, this is Mademoiselle Noble,” he explained. 

Nero’s eyes widened on her, “mademoiselle your beauty,” he complemented.

“My wife,” the Doctor added as Donna shot him a glare. 

Nero looked up at the Doctor, “you are a lucky man to have such a goddess in thy bed,” he stated. “Come, let’s eat,” he coaxed them as he led them to the court hall.

Donna must have been hungry because all the food before her demanded to be eaten. Being a guest of the head of court had it’s high points. Food came by them first, her cup was never empty, in fact it was great to be treated like a noble. She saw him having a lively conversation, “Doctor,” she called coming up to him. She practically skipped the entire way only stopping to wrap her arms around his neck and place a sloppy kiss on his cheek

He paused his conversation by holding up a finger and turned to her, “are you alright,” he worried.

“Always by you,” she grinned madly not letting go of his neck.

Her body swayed still holding on to him, “Donna he worried placing his hands on her hips to steady her you don't seem alright,” he reconciled.

“I’m fine,” she slurred meeting his eyes.

“We should go,” he noted taking her arm and guiding her back to the TARDIS.

Donna glared at him, “you’re not my husband,” she spat.

“No and you are drunk Donna. I think you were a little too liberal on your wine intake. They don’t take kindly to drunken women around here,” he explained trying to get them out of there.

She looked up at him, “oh and what would they do,” she dared.

“Do you not remember me talking about how Nero beat his pregnant wife to death,” the Doctor pushed as they came up to the TARDIS.

“Oh,” she whispered realizing what he had just gotten her away from. “We really need to talk about the places you take me. I mean, trapped by an angel, shagging me senselessly, kissing with Agatha Christie, beating people for drunkenness. Not the best,” she drawled.

He guided her to her room and onto the bed. She watched as removed her shoes and the synch covering her with a blanket before getting water from the bathroom. “Do you need anything to prevent a hangover,” he questioned placing a glass of water on he bedside table. 

“Nope,” she smiled, “I only had a few glasses,” she replied.

He sat on her bed, “they kept refilling your glass,” he reminded her.

“Oh,” she said giggling.

The Doctor stood again, “night Donna,” he said closing the door behind him as he left.


	24. Chapter 24

Waking in the middle of the night Donna had a noticeable chill. Flopping the blanket off she realized the toga had mostly slid off in the past two hours. She took the disused sheet that had passed for a messed up toga and tossed it into the abyss of her hamper. Slipping on a pair of pajamas Donna padded out her room and to the kitchen.

“Feeling better,” the Doctor questioned.

She shot him a look, “watch it spaceman,” she huffed turning the kettle on. Donna slipped a piece of toast in the toaster and grabbed the tea sticking in the cup.

“You don’t look well,” he noted.

Buttering her toast and pouring her water Donna shrugged, “feeling a bet cool,” she sighed. That was an understatement, but the Doctor didn’t need to know.

“You’re covered in gooseflesh,” he noted.

Coming over to the table she sunk into the chair, “chilly,” she sassed.

He watched as she took a sip of tea. Swallowing it Donna lifted her toast but something didn’t feel right. She set it down and closed her eyes for a moment. Opening them again Donna took another sip of tea experimentally. It was the wrong choice. “Donna are you alright,” the Doctor called as she quickly stood up. She knew she wouldn't make it to the bathroom so her only choice was the bin. She bent over just in time to catch what her stomach expelled. She looked at the two gulps if tea she had taken and knew this wasn't the end. Donna made her way down the hallway to her room. She hurried into the ensuite just making it to the sink for a second spell. As she turned the water on she shifted allowing a third and fourth spell to come. The third one came with such velocity that she felt her nose burn as water came from it as well. She steadied herself on the toilet gasping for breath, weary another rush would come to her. A knock on her door startled her, “Donna are you okay,” the Doctor worried. 

“Yeah, must have been that drink. Mum always says I should be weary of the local drinks,” she chided herself.

She felt spent as she stood ducking before the faucet to scoop water in her mouth and on her face. “Are you sure,” he pushed. 

Opening the door she gave him a gentle smile, “I feel completely fine. It's the truth,” she promised. “All liquids all gone. Feel fine,” she raised her hand to her forehead and crinkled her face, “or maybe a fever,” she acknowledged. 

The Doctor raised his hand to her, “a little warm but mostly just Donnay. Maybe a little flushed from the vomiting,” he dismissed. 

“I am beat though,” she admitted. “I think I'll turn in,” Donna said walking over to her bed and flopping on it. 

She felt a blanket move atop her, “goodnight Donna,” he softly said.

“Night Doctor,” she said already closing her eyes. She felt almost normal again with a touch of queasiness like someone who has just had their insides churned. Sighing she relaxed into the pillows allowing herself to sleep. 

Sometime through the night she woke shivering but she was too tired to do anything. She wrapped the blanket around haphazardly not wanting to get up. It would have to do she thought not bothering to fight her eyes.

Donna felt herself move her eyes opened, “shh it’s okay,” the Doctor promised picking her up and throwing her duvet back before laying her on the bed again. She curled into her right side as he covered her with the blanket tucking her in. She felt his hand on her face, “here is fresh water if you need it.”

“Thank you.” she mumbled tugging the pillow beneath her.

When she woke again all of her muscles were sore from shivering. Donna forced her eyes open. “You’re awake,” the Doctor said startling her, “how are you feeling?”

Rolling over Donna looked at him, “you stayed here,” she questioned.

“No. The TARDIS let me you weren't well. When I came in you were shaking uncontrollably. I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he paused, “I think we should check you out,” the Doctor hinted.

Her head flopped back on her pillow, “I’m fine. It was something I ate,” she dismissed.

“Donna,” he tried.

Pushing herself up on her elbows she eyed the Doctor, “you already scanned me martian.”

“I did not,” he protested.

She smiled rolling her eyes, “when I got back to the TARDIS, back in 1913,” reminded Donna.

She could see his face trying to recall, “you might be right,” he nodded.

“Yeah,” she nodded leaning back in the bed. Donna’s eye’s stared up at the ceiling, “do you think I could smooth talk you into making mush,” she hoped.

The Doctor stood up, “I think that could be arranged,” he winked standing up, “I can see if the TARDIS has blackberries,” he suggested.

“That would be,” Donna stopped, “wait a mo, is the reason you knew I loved mush because of 1913? Is that how you knew?”

He stilled, “well you liked it when we were served it,” he shrugged.

“I’ll make tea,” she offered changing the subject and sitting up. As she stood she balked for a minute, the room spinning.

The Doctor closed in on her, “you sure I can’t convince you to visit the sick bay,” he tried.

“Too much wine,” she huffed. He followed closely near her all the way to the kitchen. As he was making mush and Donna was making tea the Doctor kept eyeing her. “Out with it,” she finally spat.

He looked up, “nothing,” dismissed the Doctor.

“I have two eyes, I can see you watching me dumbo,” she informed him.

Quietly he dished the mush and placed it on the table as Donna set their tea down, “I’m just worried you caught something in 1913. Undulant fever, diphtheria, influenzae, meningitis, pertussis, pneumonia, rubeola, scarlet fever, smallpox, typhoid fever. Although likely you’ve been immunized against most of them,” the Doctor prattled on.

“Oi, you checked me out,” she growled taking a bite.

“I’ve improved the TARDIS a lot since then,” he protested.

There was a low hum from the old girl, “ha! Seems she’s on my side,” Donna laughed.

The Doctor stomped his foot under the table, “traitor,” he complained.

“How about you spend all that energy you have thinking about all the things that could be and aren’t wrong with me on getting me to London this time spaceman,” she grinned. Hearing him groan she took a sip of tea, “oh you thought I forgot about that? Donna Noble never forgets anything,” she sassed.

His hand came up pulling at his hair, “especially not shopping,” he sighed.

"So, after breakfast I take it," she sung.

Nodding he sipped his tea, "after breakfast," grumbled the Doctor.


	25. Chapter 25

“I don’t understand why I couldn’t stay on the TARDIS,” the Doctor complained sitting in the Harrods’ dressing room shifting uncomfortably once again. 

She smoothed the blue top over herself not quite sold on it, “maybe because it’s taken you three and a half weeks to get us here you dunce,” she sassed. “What do you think about this one spaceman,” Donna worried her lip coming out of the dressing room.

“Lovely like the last item,” he sighed seeing yet another shirt.

Donna glanced at herself in the full length mirror, “I don’t know,” she worried walking to the end of the hall and then running to the mirror.

Seeing her do this the Doctor burst into laughter, “what are you doing,” he cackled.

“Running to make sure everything stays where it should,” she huffed. 

As if she had reminded him that she had breasts the Doctor’s eyes flicked to them and then away, “ahem,” he cleared his throat hoping she hadn’t noticed what his eyes had focused on. Human or not some things just stared you in the face. “Just add it to the pile,” he affirmed pulling a white package from his pocket and popped a candy into his mouth.

Walking back up to him Donna gave him a smack, “I can’t take you anywhere,” she shot.

“What,” the Doctor questioned confused enjoying his jelly baby..

She gestured around the room, “maybe now isn’t the time to have a little munch,” she chided.

The Doctor looked at her confused. They were alone in the dressing area why couldn't he, “if not now when?”

Rolling her eyes Donna reached for a jelly belly causing the Doctor’s mouth to drop open, “what,” she spat, “I don’t know why you’re always going on about these,” she sassed going back into the dressing room and taking the blue top off. 

“You’ve never taken one before, all the times I’ve offered,” he brought to her attention. Donna had been acting strange since she returned to the TARDIS. But then again she had been sick with the flu and trapped in 1913 for several months.

She slid the outfit she had arrived in back on, “well I’m hungry. That’s what happens when you lock me away in the 1910s. Anything from the future becomes appealing,” she laughed coming from the dressing room and taking the bag from him.

“Hey,” he balked. It wasn’t his fault. He knew Donna didn’t blame him. What she didn’t know was the Doctor still blamed himself. Once again not protecting her, just like she said when she got back on board. He knew and he didn’t even think to warn her. Fixed points he had told himself and dismissed any idea of it.

Donna motioned to the dressing room, “gonna need your hands free for all of that spaceman,” she quipped taking another jelly belly. She looked at her haul; one dress, two jackets, four pairs of tights, three pairs of jeans, and six tunics, “I think that about does it,” she smiled as the Doctor practically buried himself below the stack she had gathered. 

“I thought I told you not to spend it all in one place,” he advised craning to see over the clothes before realizing it was impossible. He’d have to rely on his time lord hearing to get him to the check out.

She looked back seeing his brown fringe just over the top item, “I didn’t,” she replied continuing to walk to the queue. 

“Donna,” he started. If he had to go to another store for this many hours he’d rather allow the Master to kill him.

Rolling her eyes she took a deep breath, “I know. I’ll have to take a rain check. I’m already knackered,” she promised, “I swear I used to be able to shop all day.”

As they watched the clerk ring Donna up and pack away her new belongings the Doctor’s face kept looking at the menu, “do you want to get something to eat,” he hoped. If he had gathered a hunger from watching her surely she had gained one by trying everything on.

“How about we get take away,” she suggested wanting to get back to the comfort of her bed..

His face lit up, she always like it the way he smiled when he was truly excited, “I think that will do,” he grinned handing the clerk his credit card. He grabbed her bags and practically ran to the restaurant, “we’ll have beef rendang, chicken yakitori, and watermelon salad to go,” he ordered.

Donna rolled her eyes at him already knowing her order, “um, can we get a miso soup too,” she spoke up.

“Yes, yes, add that to,” the Doctor agreed, “good thinking Donna, brilliant Donna,” he rambled paying as she grabbed their order. He was bumbling about ecstatic. As soon as they got back on the TARDIS the Doctor dropped Donna’s packages, “I’m sure the TARDIS will help get these to your room,” he cheered as he tossed his coat on a coral pillar.

Eyeing the dropped bags she rolled her eyes again, “if one thing is messed up,” she warned.

The Doctor took the bag from her, “do you want to eat in the kitchen or library,” he said dismissing her grumpy composure. Lately it seemed nothing could please her.

“Library, I might even let you turn on that movie you’re always trying to get me to watch. I’ll get dishes,” she smiled.

He shook his head, “no need,” he argued, “you aren’t sick anymore. I don’t get sick. We can share. More authentic that way,” he noted pulling out chopsticks. “Legend of Drunken Master is a classic,” he continued, “I still cannot believe you have never seen it,” argued the Doctor. 

“Oh alright,” she sighed. 

Donna grabbed the food back setting it all on the table as the Doctor went for the movie he’d been appalled she hadn’t watched since that time they ended up meeting Jackie Chan by accident. As he turned it on Donna grabbed the soup and leaned back on the couch, “still not feeling well,” he queried raising an eyebrow. He still hasn't admitted to Donna that the TARDIS and he had been in cahoots to let her rest while she was recovering from the flu after Rome. He was really worried that it was something more serious and even though the vomiting had only lasted a day her nausea and cold spells quickly went away. The fact that he or the TARDIS hadn’t been able to pinpoint what was wrong perturbed him to no end. 

“Just in the mood for soup spaceman,” she said. Which wasn’t untrue. Lately she just really enjoyed the comforts of home. Soup being the biggest one of them. If it happened to be easier on her stomach then so what. Donna chalked it up to being on a strict diet the previous three months and needing to reintroduce food slowly like that time she tried to go vegetarian for the bloke Peter. It took her a good month to introduce meat again after he found a blonde tart who didn’t shave her armpits that he went after. 

Sitting beside her the Doctor grabbed the chicken and started eating. It was almost as if they were their old selves again. As if Donna had forgiven him for not telling her everything even if he knew she hadn’t. She still wanted him to keep his distance and hugs and hand holding were a complete no go in her book. And then there was whenever she wasn’t in a good mood which was quite often recently she’d bring it up in some way. Not to hurt him just because it was clearly still on her mind whether she realized it or not. 

Finishing about half the soup Donna placed it back on the table and tucked the blanket off the back of the couch to wrap around her. She felt chilly again but she wasn’t going to let the Doctor know. Her skin was almost ready to break out in goose flesh again. Shrugging the blanket off Donna stood up, “you okay,” the Doctor worried watching her like she was some unstable shelf item.

“Yeah, going to change into pajamas. Be right back spaceman,” she sighed leaving him alone. Making a beeline for her bathroom. A little bit of tylenol and everything would be better. Opening her cupboard she grabbed the bottle. “Really,” she spat seeing the pillless bottle. She had gone through a bottle in the time she’d been back on the TARDIS. Huffing Donna went to the med bay looking for more. Shifting through the cupboards and drawers she saw it. “No,” she gasped. The TARDIS hummed at her insistently. Beside the tylenol she believed she needed was a small, square blue box. 

She knew she had been knackered all the time but that was just from the bout of flu she caught. She still hadn’t recovered yet. Right? But then, her breasts had been more tender and a little bigger than normal. She had just figured it was something to do with the change of undergarments back to her usual ones. “I’m not,” she protested. “You’re wrong,” she huffed.

“What is she wrong about,” the Doctor questioned coming around the corner. 

Grabbing the pill bottle with one hand she slammed the door shut with the other, “aren’t you supposed to be in the library,” she growled.

“Needed soy sauce,” he shrugged, “you lied to me you aren’t feeling well,” he accused.

Donna shook the tylenol at him, “just a bit tired and sore,” she partially lied. His eyes met hers. He knew she was lying but he wasn’t sure what about, “just leave me alone,” she spat.

The Doctor recoiled at her words and Donna regretted them as soon as she had said them, “okay,” he softly responded. Something was going on with Donna and the more he pressed her the angrier she became. Maybe she just needed more time to adjust to being back on the TARDIS. “You know where I am if you need anything,” he said leaving her be. Maybe he had done something or said something to anger her? He did often do hat unknowingly so it wouldn’t be a surprise if that was the case. Time would fix it. It had to.

With her outburst at the Doctor her decision had been made. Donna slammed open the drawer again, grabbed the box and made a dash for her room. Ripping open the box she grabbed the rectangle test out and sat down.


	26. Chapter 26

She stared at the test result in her hand. “No,” she gasped. It couldn’t be. “No,” she repeated as if it would make the test result suddenly change. “I can’t,” she scoffed. And even as she said it Donna Noble fought the smile appearing on her face. Being a mum is the one thing she always wanted. “Not like this,” her voice echoed. Now her fate was sealed. She’d be dropped off in Chiswick faster than the Doctor could prattle the name of that god forsaken planet that started with an r he so often loved to say. 

The TARDIS hummed at her, “I can’t tell him. He can’t know. You can’t. I need,” she stammered. “A time machine,” she said burying her face in her hands. The machine hummed urgently, “I need time. It’s the one thing that he and you have plenty of. Give me time,” she pleaded.

There was a muffled knock on her bedroom door. “Go away,” she growled pulling her pants up.

“No,” the Doctor rebuked coming in. He had enough. His friend was hurting and the more he thought about it, Donna wouldn’t take no for an answer. Donna also wouldn’t leave him alone until he told her what was wrong.

She saw him as she quickly closed the bathroom door behind her, “No,” Donna repeated in disbelief.

He came in hovering near her, “what is going on,” he demanded. His voice was calm and sad, not angry but the hurt in his face was abundant. 

“Nothing,” Donna said walking over and sinking onto her bed. She couldn’t look at him. Especially not now, not knowing.

“How about some tea,” the Doctor offered. “I’ll turn on the kettle and we’ll have a nice cup of tea and can talk. It always seems to help calm us,” he hoped. Donna shrugged noncommittally. “What’s the matter,” he urged.

When would he understand she didn’t want to talk about it. “Nothing,” she practically shouted causing him to flinch in surprise

The Doctor’s voice lowered, “have I said something wrong? Done something wrong,” he worried. It was the only possible answer. He had been wracking his brain the last five minutes trying to see what he could have said in the three weeks Donna had been back. 

“It’s nothing,” she dismissed. She couldn’t tell him. Not until she had a plan.

I know you are something is wrong Donna. I’ve known it for weeks. I understand why you wouldn’t want to talk to me given,” he trailed off. Everything had changed since she had been back from 1913 it had to do with that. “I thought i was your friend,” he softly stated.

“It’s not you,” she laughed at the words coming out of her mouth it really wasn’t although it was in some sort of manner. She needed to think, she needed to be alone. “I think we should take some space,” she whispered.

If he hadn’t had a binary system he would have passed out, “what,” he questioned sure he hadn’t heard what she said correctly.

“Space. I just need some time,” she explained.

Surely she didn't mean it. “You didn’t even want me to take you home after 1913 and now you want me to,” he retorted.

“I didn’t say take me home. Do you want to take me home,” Donna blurted. Home wasn’t home. The TARDIS was home. Right? She wasn’t sure what was what anymore. She felt so alone. 

Shoving his hands in his pockets the Doctor rocked on his heels, “No, do you want me to take you somewhere? Midnight? Zog? The Mall Planet?”

She kept her eyes focused on her nail varnish, “I think I’d just want to stay around here if that’s okay,” she shrugged. If he took her somewhere she might never see him again, might never be able to tell him. If she decided she was going to that is. 

“Okay,” he agreed leaving her be.

Curling onto the bed Donna wrapped herself in her blanket, “I don’t know what to do,” she whispered crying into her pillow. How could she tell him? What would he do? Gently the TARDIS hummed to her, trying to console her. 

Over the next week the Doctor felt like he was walking on eggshells. He was in this constant space somewhere where being around Donna broke his hearts and where being around her pushed her over the edge. The hadn’t spend more than 20 minutes around each other in the last week. In fact, they hadn’t had a proper conversation in the last week. “I’m not sure how much longer this can go on,” the Doctor sighed pacing in his room. “She can’t stand being around me. Maybe I should take her home. Maybe she’d be happier there. She clearly can’t stand being around me,” he considered. 

Angrily the TARDIS hummed lowly, “then what do I do,” he gulped pulling at his hair, “she won’t tell me what I did. I miss her. I miss us. The whole time I was in 1963, all I could think about was getting back to her, finding her,” he insisted. The TARDIS hummed again, “No, every time I invite her she says no! It is decided. I’m going out this time whether she comes or not,” he growled. 

He walked out of his room and down the corridor, pounding on her door, “Donna I’m going out,” he said.

Hearing the Doctor, Donna pulled the blanket off her bed and covered her desk. She had been reading everything she could understand in the TARDIS library about time lords and wives tails recounting development and pregnancy. She wasn’t sure how much longer she had until the Doctor found out and kicked her off his ship, “one second,” she gulped throwing a sweatshirt on hoping to cover anything his time lord senses might pick up on. Opening the door she saw his brown eyes looking back at her, “what did you need?”

“I’m needed on Methuselah, do you want to come,” he questioned.

Pulling her sweater further around her she shook her head, “probably safer in here,” she noted.

He opened his mouth and then closed it again. Why was she so cautious about being safe all the time now. His thoughts got the better of him, “what happened to never mind us,” he queried.

“Things change, people change,” dismissed Donna.

“The Donna I knew didn’t care about what danger was she cared about the adventure,” he tried. 

She took a deep breath fighting back tears. How could he even say such a thing? “A lot has happened since then,” she maintained.

“What,” the Doctor pushed.

“Oh, I don’t know, how about we gt sent back in time by weeping angels and I ended up married and sharing your bed,” she shot. “Bloody hell,” Donna shook tears starting to come down her face.   
He stepped forward, “Donna,” he began. 

“Don’t,” she roared.

The Doctor bent down to her level, meeting her gaze, “I can’t try to make it better if you don’t tell me what is wrong. Please talk to me,” he begged.

He looked so hurt, so scared, so broken. And why wouldn’t he? She hadn’t done anything but been a hormonal mess since she returned to the TARDIS. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed collapsing from the bed to the ground and wrapping her arms around him, “I’m a mess.”

Awkwardly catching her the Doctor finally wrapped his arms around his crying companion, “shhh, whatever it is we will fix it,” he consoled. 

“You can’t fix this,” she sniffed pulling back. It was now or never. Donna would rather the never. But she knew that wasn’t right. Not when he deserved to know. Even if he didn’t want to be involved he had a right to know. And in the week she’d been researching Donna didn’t find anything that was too helpful with the repercussions of a time lord pregnancy. 

“Donna,” he tried.

Licking her lips she steeled her resolute. Not once since she found out did she even think about how to tell him. She never got that far. She hadn’t even allowed herself to bond with the thing inside her in case it was impossible. The fact was everything she was reading was saying just that. Like some big joke the world universe was playing on her once again. “I’m pregnant,” she finally revealed.


	27. Chapter 27

The Doctor leg go of her falling back, “what? How? Who? What,” he sputtered. Of all the things that he thought could be going on with Donna, this was not one of them. This was so beyond what he even thought possible. His hearts were breaking, “when,” he pushed.

“I’ve known for a week,” she confessed not looking at him. “I know you’re going to take me home,” began Donna standing. She walked over to the table removing the blanket, “I’ve been reading everything I can, trying to understand, trying to figure out what to expect but there isn’t much,” she told him worrying her lip.

Following her the Doctor noticed the books on her desk, Time Lord Biology, The Curse of Pythia, Looming 101, History of Gallifrey. They were all about time lords. Realization hit him, “my, my child,” his brain practically exploded, “but how?”

Donna’s hand met his face before he even realized what he had said, “I’m not some slag,” she hissed. “You’re the only one I’ve,” she lost the words motioning to him with her hand. 

“Ow,” he flinched covering his stinging cheek where Donna had made contact. “We haven’t since,” he swallowed. He hadn’t since 1913, since he was human. It was years ago for him but for Donna, “you said I scanned you when you came back on the TARDIS,” he sputtered. He had, he remembered it. Nothing abnormal showed.

She was leaning against the wall her hands tightly across herself, “you did. I don’t know how you missed it. The TARDIS caught on. She’s the one who suggested the test,” Donna confessed.

He was more pale than she had ever seen him before, “I, I didn’t think,” he stated flabbergasted.

“Well you should have thought about it. You were human! You didn’t even think you’d fall in love so of course you wouldn't think about fathering a child but that’s where we are now. I don’t expect you to be around. I get it. Just a bit of stolen DNA but I need to know what to expect,” she cautioned. 

His hearts were racing, “having a child would be,” he realized what she had said and pressed his lips together, “you want to raise our child alone?”

“I would never keep this baby from you if you wanted to see them. But, I’m not daft Doctor. The TARDIS is nowhere to raise a baby. Everyday with you increases the chances of something bad happening. You don’t have a lifestyle for an infant. You like the running too much,” she reasoned. 

She couldn’t be more wrong. How could she not know? How could she not see? “Donna, I, um, I, maybe it would be best if we um scanned you,” he finally settled on. 

“Scan me? Shouldn't a doctor do that,” she worried.

He laughed, “I am a Doctor,” he replied.

“You said not that kind of doctor, she reminded him of his own words he had once told her.

“I have a machine full of technology and I’m the only one who would know what to expect of a time lord child,” he explained.

Damn. She knew he was right. But those books. From what she could decipher they had seemed to say there were no pregnancies anymore. “You’ve seen a time lord pregnancy before,” she hoped.

“Yep,” he popped holding his hand out to her. “You used to trust me Donna,’ he breathed trying not to let his own hurt show, “I need you to hold onto that because the first thing I need to do is scan you.” There was so much he wasn’t saying. He had only see one pregnancy and then heard of one. Why was he always so thick? Why didn’t he think about the possibility of pregnancy? Especially since their genetic code was more similar than he had ever told her.  

She walked past him, moving to the medical bay. He was taking it better than she had expected. Donna thought surely she would have been on Chiswick with all her items by now. Walking into the room she sat on the examination table praying he wouldn’t ask to see some part of her body like a typical GP visit. He hadn’t earned that right. She watched as the Doctor wordless pulled down a paneled instrument similar to an x-ray, “it won’t hurt the baby,” she worried.

“No,” he assured her beginning to press buttons. He looked at the screen and his face dropped, “one heart,” he whispered . He knew it was a possibility but seeing it was something else he continued to look over the infants structure. “Respiratory bypass system is growing,” he breathed likely from the effect of being in the time vortex. It was healthy and it was partially him. 

“Is everything okay,” Donna tried not to panic.

“Yep, healthy as can be. Six weeks gestation,” he announced pressing a button and turning the screen so Donna could see.

Her hand reached up to the screen then settled on her stomach instead, “hello in there little time lord,” she smiled.

“Time tot,” the Doctor corrected, “well, technically speaking it’s a Gallifreyan.  Well half human half Gallifreyan. Well, actually, guessing upon the makeup of the  deoxyribonucleic acid 75% human, 25% Gallifreyan. Depending upon several other factors that I likely have not accounted for. The child could be 99% human. It is really hard to tell without running further tests which we could do or we could wait. Would only need a tiny bit of blood you know,” he rambled.

“Oi,” Donna hollered he stopped looking at her, “what are you on about?”

He took a deep breath leaning against the counter behind him, “time lords aren’t born.”

“But youre a time lord,” Donna asked confused. What was he trying to say. 

The Doctor nodded, “Yes but I’m Gallifreyan, from the planet Gallifrey,” he explained as if it were clear as day.

“So you weren't always a time lord,” she questioned. How had he never said this before?

“Time lords are so much more than a race or being. You don’t have to be Gallifreyan to be a time lord although that is the norm; however there are Gallifreyan who opt out of becoming a time lord,” he tried to reason.

She still looked at him confused, “yeah not getting it,” she sighed exasperated.

“Okay you’re British but if I were to look at your ancestors I would likely find Irish in there and Scottish given your hair and anger equivalent,” he mused. 

“Oi,” warned Donna.

He flashed her quick smile, “stay with me,” he continued “so if you moved to lived in the United Kingdom or the States you would still be Scottish, Irish and whatever genetically makes your identity up,” he commented.

“So the going to America bit is the Gallifreyan,” she tried to understand.

The Doctor scrubbed his face, “if you go to university to become a teacher you’re a teacher but you still are British yeah?”

“Yes,” she agreed.

“So when you go to university things change about you, although not physically but your brain grows and you learn things and become part of a select few who are teachers and have a shared interest with them, a unity lets say,” the Doctor reasoned.

“Okay,” replied Donna thinking she was on the same page.

“That’s a time lord. But then there are genetic differences too,” he added.

Donna processed what he said but what was the point, “so not all Gallifreyan's have two hearts?”

“No, yes, um, most do, some who become time lords do not, those loomed from old houses are born with one, but that’s not what your asking,” he stilled. The Doctor nodded, “most do. My grandson was born with one heart, he wasn’t a time lord but he was part Gallifreyan,” he explained.

Was he saying this baby was like his grandchild?  “You said one heart when you were scanning me so this baby isn’t a time lord but is Gallifreyan,” she surmised.

“Correctamundo! Oh I don’t like that. Remind me never to say that again,” he grimaced.

Donna pushed herself off the table. This is all just completely wizard. There was so much she didn’t even know about the Doctor, about his people. How could she be having a child with him? Seeing the panic on her face he stepped toward her, “I think I just need to think about things some more,” she pushed wanting him to leave her alone.

“That’s all you’ve been doing Donna. What about talking,” he pled.

She shook her head, “I don’t know what to say because I still don’t know how. I, I just need it to sink in,” she tried leaving him alone again. She just couldn't be around him and think clearly. She couldn't think clearly wherever she was. 


	28. Chapter 28

The Doctor had been thinking all night. About what Donna had said, about what she hadn’t said, about what she needed, he needed, their child would need. He sat on the couch turning over the fob watch as if it would change, he would change, their circumstances would change. It wasn’t going to. Donna didn’t want to raise a baby on the TARDIS. And every conclusion he came to resulted to him not wanting Donna to raise their baby alone. He owed her that. He owed himself that. 

Sixteen hours he had been waiting for her, sixteen hours, twenty three minutes and 53 seconds. A whole week prior to that. Maybe Donna wasn’t coming to him because she didn’t know what to do. Maybe he had to be the one to offer the choices this time. Standing he walked out of the library and down the corridor to her room. Hesitantly he raised his hand and knocked. 

“Can we talk,” he questioned through the door.

Donna’s heart stopped hearing him. She didn’t know what to say to him. “I don’t know,” she sighed.

“I’ll make you a cuppa,”  the Doctor offered.

If she didn’t accept he’d be in here. Reluctantly she agreed, “okay.”

“Meet me in the library? I’ll bring that orange cake you love. I know the TARDIS has a one hidden away somewhere,” he promised.

Donna nodded, “okay,” she said remembering he couldn’t see her. She wasn’t ready to talk but she wasn’t sure she would ever be ready. She went into the library and curled into the chair so the Doctor wouldn’t be right next to her. 

She watched as he wandered in, his face fell before he could catch himself seeing her seating choice. “Here you go,” he smiled offering her a cuppa and placing the sliced bread on the table. 

The silence was echoing. “Donna,” he began, “I know this wasn’t planned,” the Doctor continued. His eyes were boring into her.

“You weren't yourself,” she dismissed. As angry as she was with him if Donna was really honest with herself she was angry that she didn’t remember But even more than the anger was the fear she had about what was going to happen.

“I should have thought,” he tried. The Doctor scooted closer to her, “Donna I lied to you. I told you  that John Smith loved you so much he died for you. That he chose to die to save you. I told you you made him more like me. And well, that wasn’t untrue I did not tell the whole truth” he confessed.

She shook her head, “we’ve talked about this,” Donna argued.

“No we haven’t. I tried to talk and you yelled,” he huffed. Her mouth opened to protest, “I lied when I said John loved you,” he blurted.

The betrayal hurt more than she had expected it too. She hadn't thought he'd ever say that, “so you just lied to protect me? Why not just break me down from the beginning,” she growled. 

“No,” the Doctor sighed. “You had asked if his heart became one of mine. And I told you no. The truth is one of mine became his,” he explained.

Donna swallowed, “you said you became him,” she reminded him.

“And I did. He's in here somewhere.  We could start again. I'd like that. You and me. We could try, at least. Because everything that John Smith is and was, I'm capable of that, too,” the Doctor told her

She shook her head, “I can't. You don't love me,” frowned Donna.

“But he's here, inside, if you look in my eyes. I’d change back if that is what you wanted. I’d give this all up. I’d, to be with our child, to be with you. You deserve it,” the Doctor promised. 

 

Standing she moved away from him. It was too much. His do good promises. Wanting to do right, “you don't love me,” she accused. 

 

“Donna don’t,” he tried coming to her side.

 

“Don’t what. I don't love you either,” she huffed. Who cared if it was true or not. Hell she didn't even know.

 

He reached out a finger to touch her face, “ y ou’ve never taken the rings off,” he said taking her hand instead and bringing attention to them. 

 

She laughed in disbelief. It was all some trick. Some ploy to get her to admit she had feelings just to kick her off his ship. “ It's a dream I have. A dream that will never be real. Doctor I know I'm unloveable. You've told me as much. No need to pretend,” scoffed Donna.

 

“Oh Donna Noble. I would give it all up for you, for this,” he assured her placing his hand on her stomach. How has he failed her so badly?

 

She moved out of his reach, “I couldn’t do that to you. Wouldn't want to,” she worried. The universe needed the Doctor that was one thing she was sure of. 

 

“I'm not making you,” he urged.

 

Donna met his gaze, “then why would you?” Why would he drop everything for someone not important.

 

“Can’t you see,” he implored. 

 

“Apparently not,” Donna swallowed. 

 

The Doctor stepped closer and took her hands, “I love you,” he proclaimed.

 

“No,” she yelled moving away. Her arms came around her hugging herself.

 

He took her hands again forcing her to look at him, “Donna I am John Smith and I've never stopped loving you. In the year I was stuck with the Master, in the time I was stuck in 1963 do you know the one thing that helped me get through it?”

 

“What,” she barely whispered.

 

Gently smiling the Doctor took a breath, “that I knew you’d be by my side again one day,” he urged.

 

“Doctor,” she began.

 

He interrupted her, “I've got nothing left but you. My home is gone my people are gone,” the Doctor begged her to understand.

“So I'm some sort of consolation prize,” she dared. “I've got some news for you Martian. I'm better than any consolation prize mister so you might as well drop me off and move on,” she growled.

“Well I'm not going anywhere. You are so much more than a consultation prize Donna Noble. You're more than I deserve,” he promised.

The Doctor let go of her hands and reached into his pocket pulling a silver watch. “The FOB watch. You still have it,” Donna gasped. 

“Of course I do. Brought me more luck than anything else I own and still does too,” he grinned nodding to her stomach.

He handed her the watch, “I want to do this for you,” he repeated. 

“I can't let you become human for me,” she said continuing to stare at the watch. 

“It isn't about you allowing me,” the Doctor told her.

Donna smiled meeting his gaze, “you daft dumbo. I'm not keen on this idea and we're not done talking about it but before you do anything stupid I'll assure you that I'm not going to do it with some human half version if you,” she ordered.

“He can grow old with you. He'd be human. For you and the baby,” he plead. 

“As infuriating as you are I wouldn't want anyone else,” Donna revealed. 

What was she saying? “I thought you loved John Smith,” the Doctor questioned confused.

“Jane did,” she replied even though she thought a part of her did too. But that part was just the memories. She'd never want to be with John Smith again. Not when she had the Doctor. 

She watched as the Doctor walked over to the couch and say. “I've been stranded on Earth before. For years, without the TARDIS, without realizing who and what I was capable of. I have money, I'm sure I'd still have a job. We could settle down.”

Even as he said it she could see something about his eyes, “you’d never want that. A mortgage and a house,” she laughed. 

“It'd just be temporary,” he suggested.

“Oh yeah of course it would cause we're all just mayflies for the mighty time lord. You settle down for a few years until I die off, our child dies off. You don't have to put on an act for me. See you say one thing but mean another,” she yelled.

The Doctor shook his head, “the not traveling would be temporary. For all of us. Once they were old enough. I mean time lord versus human years vary but still. One day we could travel again.”

“You've just got it all planned out then. What about me? About what what I want,” she pushed.

He leaned back on the couch, running his hand through his hair, “what do you want? Do you know?”

Maybe he knew her better that she thought he did. She didn’t know what she wanted. She was running on empty, full of fear, worrying about everything but her and the baby. She had played through every possible scenario the Doctor could have provided except for the one he had provided. “I don’t know,” she hemmed sitting back in the chair.

“I know neither of us expected this Donna, but you are not alone, you will never be alone,” he promised her.

She smiled chuckling, “you mean you aren’t going to leave me up the duff and run away?”

“Never,” he proclaimed. 

It would take a lot for her to believe it. But one day she might. If Donna thought about his history the Doctor may enjoy running but in the time they've known each other she's been the one to panic or run from him. Maybe she should give him a chance. He did always appear to show up when she or the Earth needed him on some level.


	29. Chapter 29

Sitting in her rocking chair she could feel the cool summer breeze flick at her hair. Rocking back and forth she watched her son run around in the dirt, stomping about and kicking up dirt. “John be careful around the flowers love,” she smiled. 

Joan came through the door and placed tea on the table between them, “love flowers, not hurt,” he agreed bouncing up and down.

“How are you feeling,” questioned Joan.

She paused rocking before taking a sip of tea, “ready for this one to arrive,” she sighed placing her free hand on her bulging belly. As if on cue she felt a kick from inside her, “oi,” she chided the little one inside her. She met Joan’s eyes, “do you want to feel,” she asked.

“Please,” agreed Joan moving and placing her hand on the moving belly. 

“Mummy,” John called as if knowing his sibling was already taking attention away from him.

Looking up, she saw a car approaching. It stopped as it pulled up in front. Two men in military uniforms got out and neared the porch, “Mrs. Smith,” the one half questioned, half greeted.

Swallowing Jane stood, “yes,” she wearily answered. The man who addressed her reached into his pocket and removed a telegram. “No,” she shouted knowing instantly what it mean, “no,” she sunk, tears flowing from her eyes.

Instantly Joan was by her side, “shhh” she comforted.

“I’m sorry ma’am,” the one who spoke offered. 

Jumping awake Donna shook feeling the tears from her dream still on her face. Her skin was prickled as she shook. Imagining the Doctor still John and dead due to the war. “It was just a dream,” she tried to remind herself but it wasn’t working.

She knew she shouldn’t but Donna didn’t even care this esclated. Her feet went to work before her mind could catch up. Before she knew it Donna was standing at the Doctor’s open door. “Doctor,” she whimpered.

Hearing his name his eyes popped open. As soon as he saw Donna he knew something was wrong, “what is it,” he worried shoving something in his book to mark the page he had fallen asleep at. 

Her head shook as he closed in, “I needed to see you,” she babbled. 

“Is it the baby,” he feared. Her lack of works worried him. The Doctor tried to wrack his brain for anything he had missed. Donna shook her head but words failed her. Instead her arms found their way around the Doctor as she hugged him tight. Carefully he wrapped his arms around her feeling Donna shake in his arms. “Donna, what is wrong,” he questioned.

Her arms tightened around him, “no, I had a dream that you died.”

“Very much alive,” he promised.

She buried her tear strewn face in his chest deeper, “what if you hadn't changed back? What if they hadn't found you when you were John Smith would you have changed?”

“I'm sure I would have,” he assured her.

Donna pulled back, “I need to know. Because I think I know how that would have ended,” she sobbed.

“What is this about,” the Doctor pushed.

Shaking her head Donna refused to look at him. Her mind was still on what could have happened. She hated herself for the fear quelling within her. “Doctor,” she paused biting her lip and not wanting to say the betraying words, “I know I shouldn't ask but just for tonight do you think it's be okay to spend the night by each other?”

His eyes blinked unsure he heard her correctly, “what?”

“I'm sorry I shouldn't have asked,” she dismissed pulling back.

His hand reached for hers, “No, no, I mean you want to sleep in the same room?”

“Well I was thinking bed. I just don't want to wake up without you. Not after that nightmare. Doctor I wouldn't ask any other time,” she said. Her voice was so childlike, so terrified.

He swallowed down anything bubbling beneath the surface. “Yeah,” he agreed watching as Donna let go of him and walked over to his bed. This really must have been a bad dream to have her this riled up, “Do you need tea or anything?”

“No,” she softly answered watching him as if she was scared he was going to back out. Hell she was. What was she thinking? But all Donna Noble cared about right now was remembering that the Doctor was himself and alive.

He carefully laid down beside her as if worried she would break and unsure about how she would react. “Is this okay,” he questioned.

“Yes,” she replied snuggling up to him as if she couldn't be too close. She closed her eyes but all she could see was various images of the Doctor having a bomb dropped on him, being shot down in a plane, having a bullet go through his skull. Donna’s eyes popped open, “promise me that whatever you do you won’t take us back to 1913. I don’t ever want to live there,” she shook.

The Doctor looked down meeting her eyes, “promise,” he declared frowning. “Donna you know that was just a dream right,” worried the Doctor.

Flicking her eyes to his chest Donna couldn’t bear to look into his eyes. She knew he was right but everything had felt so real. Felt like she had lost him. “I know,” she told him. Donna rested her head on his arm hearing the silence of their breathing. “Doctor, I think I’d like to live in Chiswick near Mum and Gramps. I know mum is, well mum and she and he are the only family I really have,” she sighed.

Nodding in agreement the Doctor took a deep breath, “you’ve got me now too Donna. I think you’re right though. It would be nice to see Wilfred whenever we want.”

“Good,” she settled wrapping both of her arms around the Doctors and snuggling into him more. 

When she finally fell asleep the Doctor tentatively wrapped his arm around her. Everything in him wanted to protect her and their child. If Donna wanted a house in Chiswick, that is exactly what she was going to get.


	30. Chapter 30

The knocking on the door awoke her, “Donna come on,” the Doctor urged.

“Oi Spaceman shut it up,” she mumbled trying to wrap the blanket securely around her and block the alien git out. 

He tried not to show his annoyance with his voice, “we have to meet the realtor,” he tried.

“We live in a time machine,” she hollered back laying in bed and praying the turning of her stomach would cease.

The Doctor tugged at her pillow. “I still want to meet them and make sure we’re in the right time. No mistakes this time,” the Doctor noted.

“Well,” Donna began swallowing down her urge, “if you want to make a good impression I suggest you let me rest so I don't puke all over him.”

“Donna,” the Doctor pushed, “would you like tea? Crackers? Ginger?” He had certainly turned into the doting dad and partner and then some in the last few days.

Carefully she shook her head, worried about opening her mouth, “I just need to relax,” Donna promised feeling her head starting to pound. Between these bouts of nausea and the Doctor’s new overzealous need to mother Donna felt she was never going to have any peace again. 

“I’ll make you two something to eat,” he told her leaving Donna alone. He wished she would take the medication he kept offering for her nausea. He knew it would go away with one use but Donna kept refusing because it was from the 51st century. 

Finally alone again Donna rested her head against the pillow. Id she waited long enough her body would adjust to being awake and the urge to vomit would dissipate. Well, at least until around half past three when it liked to pop up again. Feeling her stomach settle she slowly stood up and pulled her hair up into a ponytail before getting ready for the day. She knew by the time she got to the kitchen the Doctor would be practically drooling. 

He knew Donna would pop in as soon as she was dressed. It had become their new norm. As had her new favorite breakfast, one of the only she could seem to stomach every day. “Two scrambled eggs, one bagel toasted with half cream cheese and marmalade on the other, tea with no cream or sugar,” he smiled placing her breakfast in front of her as she shuffled in. 

Donna’s stomach practically grumbled with excitement, “thanks,” she said sipping the tea and letting the bitterness fill her. 

“You’ll be right as new after this like every other day,” the Doctor promised.

Rolling her eyes she flashed him a smile, “and what is the almighty time lord having today?”  
“Toast and marmalade,” he grinned shoving a mouthful in. “I talked with the realtor about you wanting Chiswick and wanting something more private of course for the TARDIS. I didn’t have anything else to really offer him,” he mumbled through chewing. 

Pausing she took a sip of her tea and sat back in the chair. Of course they would need something for the TARDIS. But what did she really need? “As long as it has a dishwasher and a washing machine I’m set,” Donna realized. She wasn’t sure how shed manage if the Doctor was off and she had a backup of bottles and nappies. 

“I think we can arrange that,” he winked, “are you prepared for a busy week?”

Worrying her lip she nodded, “yeah. How many houses do we have again?”

“Sixteen,” he boasted, “I am assured they are very lovely. Three today, four tomorrow, two then five and on the last day two,” the Doctor rambled.

But Donna was too caught up in staring at her breakfast to care. There was another thing nagging at her mind that she kept trying to push far down. The fact was finding a house scared her because once she was off the TARDIS the Doctor could leave at any time. And he would. She knew he would. Then her mum would be right again. Like always. “Shit,” Donna realized. The Doctor looked up surprised, “we still have to tell mum and Gramps,” Donna huffed.

“Yep,” the Doctor popped receiving a glare. How could he be so excited about the yelling that they would have to undergo. “Donna, once we buy the house we have them over and show them the house. I know Sylvia will not be joyous and Wilfred will be delighted. You are married, with a house of your own and having a child. Any mum would be happy for their child,” he offered.

“My mum is not the typical,” Donna reminded him. “She hates you, is going to believe that I did this just to trap you,” her stomach turned at the thought. In a way she had. Not purposely but the Doctor sure was trapped on Earth now. Buying a house, what would his companions think of him?

His hand met hers, “I am anything but trapped. I get an extended vacation with my best friend,” he tried. 

But it was no use, “we should get going. I wish we could get them all done today,” she sighed pushing herself up.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After the Doctor or John as the realtor knew him introduced themselves they were off to their first house. 

Pulling up it looked like a business. It was a flat. “Are you sure a flat would be right for us,” she doubted.

“It has a separate yard,” Graham replied. 

“No lift,” she realized walking in the front door, “how will I get a pram up and down these stairs,” Donna worried. 

“I can help,” the Doctor offered.

“It can be left down here,” supplied Graham.

He opened the door to a sleek, wood floored area. “This penthouse has a west facing terrace. I know fourth floor isn’t ideal with a little one on the way and this entire floor is yours. Cloakroom to the right, reception before the front door, you walk right into the 46 reception room that flows into the kitchen,” he announced. Donna had to admit the white cabinets and walls did look good with the amber wood contrast. Graham walked over to a set of double doors, here is the generous master suite. Floor to ceiling windows, ensuite. She looked at it, not bad but it was rather boring.

Donna turned the corner into the ensuite, “oh my god look at this tub,” she shrieked. The bathroom was giant, “I could have a party in my bathroom,” she bellowed. “Hear that? I think it’s my echo,” she giggled.

The Doctor ran over to the other side, “Donna, Donna, Donna,” he feigned echo. He hadn’t seen her this happy in weeks. 

“Just out that door is the patio and your private yard,” explained Graham. 

Prancing over to it the Doctor looked less than thrilled, “it isn’t a yard. The TARDIS would be cramped,” he frowned.

“The TARDIS? Is that your dog,” inquired Graham.

“Yeah,” Donna grinned patting the Doctor’s shoulder, “we’ll need something with grass I think. Where are the other bedrooms?”

Graham led the way, “over here you have the other bedroom and guest bathroom,” he showed them. 

“Two bedrooms,” Donna chirped.

The Doctor met her eyes, “is that not enough,” he worried.

“No,” declared Donna, “both you and the baby will need one,” she reminded him. Graham’s eyebrow arched hearing that Donna would not let her husband sleep in her room, “for your office,” she pushed daming herself for not talking with the Doctor about this before. “We’ll need a three bedroom with a yard, and no flats,” she instructed.

Pushing past his hurt the Doctor nodded, “whatever she wants she gets. She is right about the yard though,” he agreed. 

“Oh,” Graham realized. “Well, that takes several of the places I was going to show you out of the running. 

Donna met the Doctor’s glance, “that isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Does that mean we no longer have to look at 16 places,” she hoped.

Not paying attention to her Graham pulled out his ipad and began swiping away on it “would you be opposed to a terrace house with privacy and it’s own yard,” he questioned.

The Doctor shrugged, “as long as there is more space than this,” he motioned to the patio that was entirely too small for the TARDIS. 

“I have seven places and one of them I can show you today. It will take some rearranging; However, I believe I will be able to move another onto today as well and make it so you are not stuck with me all week,” Graham laughed. If only he knew how true Donna felt his comment was.

Thankfully the next place wasn’t too far away. They pulled up to a brick front house and parked. ”This four floor, four bedroom, two bath townhome was built in the nineties,” he explained leading them in the front door. 

“Four floors,” gasped Donna.

“The bottom floor is your garage and storage so really just three,” Graham tried. “As you can see they tried to instill the vintage feeling in here while utilizing the views. Each floor opens up to the river Thames as you can see,” he showed them walking up to the window in the reception. 

The Doctor thought it was a bit ironic and funny how one of their possible houses would be staring at the thing they just so happened to drain the night they met, “yes very,” he agreed, “I see it’s very full,” noted the Doctor.

Graham gave him an odd look and moved on, “the carpet gives an added warmth during the winder and the step down adds a degree of separation from the kitchen and dining room while still allowing you to have the open room aspect. While cooking in the kitchen you can be entertaining or engaging with guests in the living and dining room due to the cut out,” he told them as they moved toward the kitchen. 

“Not a very big dining area or kitchen,” the Doctor noticed. 

Donna rolled her eyes, “like we’re going to have lavish parties full of people,” she supplied.

“I do have a lot of friends and well, I need room when I cook,” he explained. There was not going to be enough surface room for all the pots and pans he dirtied for one meal. Plus, if their house needed to be a home base for something alien happening no way everyone would fit in this area. “It’s a bit cramped,” he added.

“The kitchen extends here to the door of the patio with a floor to ceiling refrigerator over here and two ovens over there as well as a gas range,” pointed out Graham. 

She wasn’t impressed with the colors but it also wasn’t a bad house. A house on the Thames had to be outrageously expensive, above her budget. Turning to walk to the patio she saw a wine cooler, “just what every pregnant woman needs! Bring on the wine,” she giggled throwing Graham off and making the Doctor chuckle.

He was trying to read Donna’s impression of the house. With the last one he was sure she did not like because she let them know but with this one she was more subdue about her feelings, “what do you think,” he pried as they moved into the back yard. 

“It’s a house,” she shrugged seeing the garden, “no fence I see so there goes that lack of privacy.”

The Doctor watched her for a moment, “might be nice seeing the happenings. I went to a frost fair here once,” he prattled.

Graham looked at him oddly, “frost fairs stopped in the 1800s. But they would have occured around here,” he wearily said correcting the Doctor.

Leaning in closer to the Doctor she whispered in his ear, “won’t they be able to see the TARDIS,” worried Donna.

“Perception filter, they won’t even notice her,” he promised.

Taking them back inside Graham led them to the staircase, “the next floor has three bedroom and a shared bathroom with the fourth floor holding the master.”

“The master is seperate from others? That could be good for you Doctor,” she noted. He could have his space maybe feel a little less trapped. She could share a floor with their child. Hear him or her if they needed something. Maybe, this could work. 

As they came up the stairs they entered a small room, “this would be great for an office, or guest room,” he supplied. 

“To ensure your guest doesn’t stay that long,” Donna cracked at the small dark room before walking into the next, “this is more like it,” she said of the bigger room yet still dark. “I think this house just is gloomy,” she realized aloud.

The Doctor met her eyes, “you don’t like it,” he noted.

Donna shook her head. “Nothing a paint job couldn’t fix,” Graham hoped.

Despite not thinking paint could fix the way she felt about the house Donna went on to look at the other bedroom, guest bath and up to the master suite with a terrace of its own. The house was nice she just couldn’t see herself ever living here. Just about the time they were looking at the ensuite Graham's phone rang and he excused himself. “Donna, if you don’t like the house you need to say it. I can’t read your mind. You’ll have to live here and I don’t want you to be unhappy,” tried the Doctor.

“But it’s okay for you to be unhappy living in a house,” she shot.

His shoulders sunk and he ducked his head to catch her eyes, “I've been wandering too long. Now I've got someone to care for. And I've got you,” he promised.

“Good news,” Graham interrupted, “one of the houses I wanted to show you later this week can fit us in if we head over.”

The Doctor stood up straight again. He wished he could get through to Donna, “that is good because this is not the house,” he explained as they made their way out.

After an hour in traffic they made it to the third house of the day. Another brick front didn’t seem to enthrall Donna. Nor the description about the entrance hall, reception, gas fireplaces, or built in storage. However, she could tell that the wall length bookshelf did catch the Doctor’s attention. She could practically see him imaging what books to bring from the TARDIS. It was a nice house, simple enough, big enough and yet something didn’t feel right to it. It didn’t feel like her.

“You okay,” the Doctor inquired about her quiet nature as they left.

She nodded, “yeah, just letting it sink in. You know,” she offered. 

But the Doctor didn’t know. The only time he ever saw Donna quiet was when something was wrong and it worried him. As they made plans to meet up later this week to see a few more houses with their new specifics in mind the Doctor and Donna said goodbye to Graham. “What is it,” the Doctor tried again.

“Nothing,” she said stepping on the TARDIS, “do you think we can just skip ahead and get this over with?”

“Get this over with,” echoed the Doctor. She still didn’t want to live with him. He watched as she sunk on to the jumpseat and he took the opportunity to lean against the console, “Donna if you don’t want me to live with you I will respect your wishes,” he started. “I do want to live with you though. I don’t want you to be alone in this. You’re my best mate. I’m always going to be by your side,” he promised.

Staring at her fingers she couldn’t bring herself to look at him. “I know, always saving everybody,” she sighed.

“I’m not trying to save you. I want to be apart of this. It’s an opportunity to,” he paused feeling the pain his his hearts, “to start over and have a family again.”

He could say that as much as he wanted but Donna knew better even if he was refusing to admit it to himself. “Maybe I'm just worn out. I think I'm going to turn in. We can hot more tomorrow yeah,” she said leaving him alone in the console room. 

As she left the Doctor got a puff of air and low hum of the TARDIS. “I keep trying but it is no use,” he growled receiving a sharp hum in reply. “I didn't say I was giving up,” the Doctor rebuked, “I just wish I could get through to her,” he frowned. “Make sure she eats something yeah? I need some time,” he shrugged walking to the zero room.


	31. Chapter 31

This whole plan was completely wizard. How would she and the Doctor ever get on living in the same house. The TARDIS hummed, “oi, I get that we live with you but it’s different in a house. A set amount of space. When I want to hide from him you’re great at helping me. Who will do that in a house,” she sighed.

Who was she kidding anyways, it would just be for a short amount of time, well for him. For her, it’d be her whole life. Stuck with the Doctor. Just like she had always wanted. Maybe it was meant to be? She could be happy, get what she always wanted. But, even then it wouldn’t be. Donna didn’t deserve happiness like other people. How many times did the world have to shove that in her face. Asking for anything more than the tiny half human half time lord would be pushing it. Anything else could mean destruction. She couldn’t open the chance for the universe to laugh in her face more than it already had.

Feeling her stomach grumble Donna looked down, “when was the last time I ate,“ she questioned unsure. Huffing out the rest of her air Donna tramped out into the hallway. “Doctor, I’m famished and going to make something to eat anything you want,“ she questioned. Being met with silence was not the typical reaction Donna got to asking the Doctor if he was hungry. “Doctor,“ she queried again. The fact that he wasn’t around when food was the subject worried her. 

Ever since the Doctor found his TARDIS the zero room was a special place for the Doctor to rest, heal, and contemplate his thoughts. A place that he felt he was needing more and more as the days went on. In 900 odd years he had not met someone as bullheaded as Donna Eileen Noble. Nor, did he want to keep someone safe as much as he did her. It scared him from the beginning how at ease he was with her, how open his heart was when everything told him it shouldn’t be. 

It was almost as if something was drawing them together. Something beyond what he could see. She wanted space and he had plenty of it. Space was the one thing he and the TARDIS could offer her.

“Donna,” he called bounding out of the zero room. 

The TARDIS hummed giving away her whereabouts before her voice did, “in the kitchen,” she replied.

Surely he must have smelled the dinner she had made and be expecting some. Lucky for him Donna always left extra for her Martian, “mmm what is that,” he questioned as the smell from the stove pot attacked his senses. 

“Coconut curry. There is plenty,” offered Donna. 

Taking a deep breath he sat down in front of her, “I think you should go look at the houses by yourself tomorrow,” the Doctor began.

“What,” Donna swallowed setting down her spoon, “you don’t want to go? This was your idea. I’m not going without you sunshine.” 

He scrubbed his face with his hand, “it’s clear you want space,” he continued.

“No, I’m not going to look at houses without you,” pushed Donna.

“You don’t want me to leave you but you don’t want me around you,” he cried exasperated standing up and pacing.

Donna watched the Doctor pace ruffling his hair in confusion, “well I didn’t say I make much sense,” she offered. 

“You are impossible,” he stated.

“Oi you’re one to speak,” huffed Donna. They both stood staring at each other unsure what to say. The silence starting to deafen their ears. “Look,” Donna finally began, “I know I seem to contradict myself a lot.”

The Doctor nodded, “every other second,” he shot. She raised her eyebrow daring him to go on and the Doctor raised his hands in mercy stiling and purposely closing his lips to encourage her to go on. “It’s going to happen a lot more. I’m not sure what I want and my emotions are all over the place. This is a lot and as much as I want it I’m still confused by the situation just like I assume you are.You can’t say you’re going to be here and then just disappear,” she pled.

“Then you can’t push me away every second,” he argued.

She opened her mouth and closed it again, “I will try not to push you away all the time,” she agreed.

“Then how about I make sure we’re all set with Graham tomorrow,” he inquired.

Donna took a mouth fun, “or you could eat first. Wouldn’t be the worst thing to have your company,” she said offering him a smile. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Are you ready for a log day,” Graham asked, “I have some beautiful houses lined up for today. All have at least three bedrooms and there is even a couple four bedroom houses.” Donna smiled just to be polite as the Doctor took her hand giving it a squeeze. “This semi-detached house is a two floor house. There is plenty of room to extend should you wish in the future with your expanding family.”

“Oi,” Donna began and the Doctor coughed preventing her tirade. 

“Over here you have a carriage house big enough for storage and a car,” Graham continued. 

Donna stood and watched as the Doctor followed Graham and went in to investigate it no doubt to see if the TARDIS would be happy here. As they came out the Doctor offered her a smile, “nice and big with windows,” he agreed. 

Walking to the front Donna had to admit the house was cute. A white house broken up by brick and a thatched roof. It was something she never thought she’s ever be able to have. Coming in the entryway there was a set of stairs leading up. Which was good because it meant they could come and go as they please without having to run into each other. Or, was that a good thing? It had doors that entered into the dining room, reception room and kitchen all off of it. The design was simple, white walls and carpets, wood floors with white walls, white kitchen. Graham led them out of the dining room and into the back garden, “wow,” Donna gasped. “It looks like a garden oasis. Like when I was a little girl and read the secret garden hoping that my mum wasn’t my mum I used to wish I had a yard like this.”

“Then you should see upstairs,” Graham encouraged. Donna nodded for him to lead the way. “All three bedrooms are on this floor. The master has an ensuite. The other two share this one he announced opening into a small room at the top of the stairs,” he said.

Donna noticed the bathroom, “well, the bath certainly is deep,” she approved noticing a shower as well. 

“This is the master,” he led them across to the biggest room outlooking the garden. “Plenty of room for a large bed he hoped.” Donna smiled and followed Graham in the room moving on to the other large room and then a smaller one. “If you opt to have more than two children this room could house two,” Graham noted. 

Her face scrunched at his words, “I only want the one,” Donna dismissed. “It’s a nice house i’ll give you that,” she began.

“But it isn’t the house,” the Doctor finished her sentence.

“It’s the best one yet though,” she nodded.

Graham pulled out his ipad, “come to the next one it might be more up your alley. Let’s head over it's not too far.” They managed down the stairs and onto the next house. 

“This three bedroom terraced house is close to the fields and transport,” Graham said as they pulled up to a brick faced building. “It has three bedrooms and a luxury bathroom with a conservatory in the back,” he described, “the garden has rear access and was landscaped.”

The house didn’t look like much from the front. They walked in through the front door and were met with stairs that went up as well as a hallway that ended in a room. “Through here is the kitchen,” Graham noted taking a left. 

A white brick backsplash took Donna by surprise. “Everything is white with black,” she noticed, but something about it felt right.

“You don’t like it,” the Doctor worried. But donna didn't answer and walked into the connected room. It also had a white wall but the wood floor and built in bookcase felt very homey. “Think of all the books I could put here,” the Doctor grinned.

“Plenty of room the bouncers and toys,” Donna noted. Continuing out to a table and the open dining room. She was covered by the sky. Glass panels made up the roof and sides. “It’s like we’re outside,” she gasped.

Graham smiled, “oh you wait,” he said moving over and opening the door sliding it back and completely removing the wall that had been keeping the inside in and outside out. The backyard certainly was not as massive as the last house but there was grass and a patio, plenty of plants outlining the perimeter. “It’s almost like we’re not on Earth,” she realized staring up.

“Closest we’ve come since,” the Doctor agreed. 

“Can we see the bedrooms,” Donna asked.

“Yes,” Graham hurried over to the staircase, “there is only one shared bathroom but the master is on one side and the other slide is split into two rooms.” The master had white walls with teal trim. She could almost see the bassinet beside her own bed. It had plenty of room and windows that allowed the natural light to come in and bask the room. Graham pushed open a door, “this leads to the bathroom,” which housed a large tub and shower with double sinks and plenty of storage. 

It was high enough for her and yet low enough to bathe a toddler, “what about the other rooms she inquired.”

“This way,” he urged. The second bedroom was large and light as well. It even had a small alcove perfect for the TARDIS should the Doctor need her close by. Walking into the next room it was perfect for a nursery big bright window, plenty of space for a rocker, crib and one day bed. She could paint that wall or put decorate it so many ways, add some shelving.

Watching Donna he thought something was wrong. She was being quiet, too quiet for her. “Donna,” the Doctor interrupted.

“Hm,” she questioned coming back from her thoughts. 

“You like it don’t you,” the Doctor realized.

Her shoulders shrugged, “it’s okay,” she supplied. 

“No, you really like it,” he pushed.  
“I might. What do you think of it,” Donna inquired.

The Doctor thought for a moment, “the backyard is nice and I could fill the wall with books,” he said. 

She bit her lip worried about getting her hopes up, “can you afford it?”

“Yep,” the Doctor popped.

How much money did he have anyways she mentally scoffed, “do you want it,” questioned Donna.

He nodded, “if you do,” he agreed.

She stood for a moment thinking his proposition through, “I do. I think this is our home,” she nodded hugging the Doctor in excitement. 

“Graham,” the Doctor hollered, “we’ll take this one,” he noted.

“This one? But I still haven’t shown you the four bedroom victorian house on the corner of chiswick park,” he protested.

The Doctor shook his head, “no need we want this,” he assured him. 

“Okay do you want to think about what you’d like to offer,” Graham questioned. 

“Asking price,” the Doctor instructed.

“Are you sure? We can ask and have them come down,” Graham suggested.

The Doctor shook his head, “nope asking, make the offer good man and be in touch,” he beamed taking Donna’s hand and leading her down the stairs.

Graham hurried after them, “but I drove you here,” he worried.

“No worry,” the Doctor dismissed. 

“How do you expect us to get home,” Donna huffed following him down.

“I have my tricks,” the Doctor grinned.


End file.
